The Meeting In The Beginning
by elliehenry
Summary: This is how 'The End In The beginning' finale should have been written. Brennan waits for Booth to awaken and remembers how they met - the case, the crime, the chemistry - find out how four years of partnership began and THEN Booth asks "who are you?"
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of it's characters.**

**After you've read the following story you can decide if the show would be better if I did :o) **

**AUTHOR'S NOTE. **

**When I first started watching 'Bones' I was puzzled because the lead characters, Booth and Brennan, already knew each other. **

**After seeing the fourth season finale, "The End In The Beginning" I cannot help but think Hart Hanson missed the perfect opportunity to finally take us on a trip down memory lane... **

**After all, Booth has just had dangerous surgery and lies in a coma.**

**Bones doesn't know if he's going to make it. **

**For me, 'The End In The Beginning' was just okay. The plot we saw, the murder of the hitman in the nightclub, had no real relevance to our characters. It seemed just a way to waste some time in order to get to the final 5 minutes of the episode. **

**How much better would the episode have been if the murder was actually interwoven with something relevant to Booth and Brennan? Something like...? **

**How they first met. **

**Think about it. **

**If you had just heard the story of how Booth and Brennan met, wouldn't the final five minutes of 'The End In The Beginning', been even more dramatic?**

**And heartbreaking. **

**Because he doesn't remember her.**

**So here is my story. **

**How 'The End In The Beginning' should have been written. **

**This is how Booth and Brennan met. **

**I hope you like it.**

_**The Meeting In The Beginning. **_

_**Prologue.**_

_Temperance Brennan opened the door to the hospital room and slipped inside. _

_The sight that met her eyes was one she hoped she would never see. _

_Her partner of four years, Seeley Booth, was still, lying in the hospital bed before her. _

_His skin was almost the same white shade as the sheets and pillow he lay upon. _

_Various tubes connected him to machines that were set up all around him. The top part of his head was hidden under a layer of bandages. _

_He looked helpless and vulnerable in a way she had never seen him look before. _

_And it broke her heart._

_"Hi Booth." She whispered. _

_He didn't react and she stared at him for a long moment, struggling to find something to say. _

_The silence became so loud, it was deafening._

_"The doctors say your going to sleep for a while..." She blurted out suddenly. "Maybe a l-long while." _

_Her voice wobbled at the last part, a small sob escaping her lips but she shook her head roughly, trying to pull herself together._

_She had to be strong now. _

_"They think... they think you might be able to hear me." _

_She looked down at her hands._

_"Sweets told me to talk to you. He said..." She took a deep breathe. "He said sometimes people only really listen when they're asleep." _

_She managed a small smile at that but when she looked up at him, her face fell again. _

_"Can you hear me Booth?" _

_The question seemed to echo in the silent room and there was no answer._

_Brennan found herself drifting closer to him. _

_She looked down at his hand, on the bed at his side, and gingerly paced her own hand on top of his. It was limp, but as warm and reassuring as it always was and that helped... even just a tiny bit._

_She took a seat in the chair beside his bed._

_"So I'm supposed to talk to you." She informed him. "And then you'll wake up."_

_She frowned slightly and bit her lip._

_"I'm not very good at talking... I mean I have vocal cords obviously but well..." She sighed. "I think I mostly just tell people things they don't want to hear... then they get mad at me. You say I'm the genius Booth" [she smiled at this] "but am I? You're the one who knows how to talk to people… you always seem to know the right thing to say... it's always been like that... ever since I've known you..."_

_She paused a moment, thinking._

_"Booth, do you remember when we first met...? Do you remember what you said to me at the end of the case? I've never forgotten it. You said... life is painful, so find someone worth suffering for."_

_She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. _

_"It's only now that I understand what that really means. Because... because you mean everything to me Booth. Please come back to me."_

_The last part was a whisper and Brennan fought back tears. In a desperate attempt to keep them at bay she spoke aloud the tale she would tell over the next four days. _

_As Brennan spoke, her voice filled the room and found it's way to Booth. _

_Her words warmed him, penetrating through the thick fog of his coma. _

_Somewhere deep inside Booth's head, a tiny part of Booth flickered, like a candle, into life. _

_It was the part of Booth which had taken refuge against the anaesthetic, in the deepest depths of his mind. _

_This part heard her words, and though terribly weak, grabbed onto them. _

_And as Brennan's words began to sink in, this part of Booth began to awaken..._

_This part of Booth was listening... and this part of Booth was remembering..._


	2. Chapter 1 The Meeting Over The Bones

_**Set two months and one week before the pilot.**_

_**Chapter 1. **_

_**The Meeting Over The Bones.**_

FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth slammed his front door closed with much more force than was needed.

He stalked over to the black SUV parked on his driveway and fished for his car keys in his trouser pocket, whilst attempting to balance a hot cup of coffee in his other hand.

It was barely 9 AM on a sunny Saturday in the middle of June but it was already turning into one of _**those **_mornings.

It was _**supposed**_ to be Booth's weekend off.

He was _**supposed**_ to be spending it with his three-year-old son Parker.

Booth was painfully aware he didn't spend enough time with his son.

Rebecca, his ex, had pretty much made sure he had zero rights when it came to their boy.

So when she'd dropped their son off last night, _**two hours late,**_ there wasn't much he could do about it.

Worse, after barely a few hours shut-eye, he'd been awoken out of his sleep by the telephone and told he had a case.

It didn't matter it was his weekend off.

It didn't matter his three-year-old son was asleep in the next room.

Or that both father and son were excited about _finally spending some time together_.

None of that mattered to FBI Deputy Director Sam Cullen.

His boss had told him to jump and Seeley Booth was supposed to jump.

Booth loved his job, but he loved his son more. He'd seen the look of disappointment on Parker's face when Rebecca had driven him away less than fifteen minutes ago, still yelling at Booth out of her car window.

Not that Booth could blame her.

She was supposed to be meeting her new boyfriend's parents this weekend. She always said his job meant she could never count on him. Booth hated letting people down.

_'No wonder Rebecca wouldn't marry me._' He thought glumly, as he finally managed to prise open his car door and get inside.

He put his coffee on the passenger seat and slid his seat belt on.

He slammed his car door closed – only to trap his jacket in the gap.

Booth groaned.

He was normally very laid-back and down-to-earth. Today he felt stressed and tense and the events of the morning were not helping.

Freeing his jacket, he put the key in the ignition and pulled out of his driveway.

The crime scene was at Weldings Park, about 20 minutes away.

Cullen had said on the phone Booth's team would already be down there, at work on the site.

Booth was not best pleased he was the last to arrive, but short of turning back time, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He passed many streets in a blur until he saw traffic lights up ahead, about to change from green. Any other day Booth would have slowed down but today he tried to make it - and failed.

The lights changed back to red and Booth slammed on the brakes, sending his coffee cup flying and it's contents spilling down his black upholstery.

Booth pounded his hands on the steering wheel in frustration.

He loved his car and it had taken him ages to get it exactly how he wanted it.

Booth picked up the [now] empty cup and crushed it in his fist.

It seemed as though his day was not going to get any better...

After what seemed like an age, the lights finally changed to green again and Booth drove on.

His thoughts kept straying to Parker, which was only making his bad mood worse.

Booth tried to think about the case but he didn't know much. His boss had simply announced there was a body down at Weldings park and to get himself down there. The details were patchy at best – apparently a journalist had found the body [completely by chance] while taking an early morning run with her dog. Now there was uproar, the media was going mad and Cullen wanted the case dealt with quickly. Booth didn't know any of the important stuff and that was something he _**really **_hated - not knowing what was going on.

When the sign for the park came into view Booth was disappointed, but not surprised, to find the place swarming with cops and the media. He had difficulty getting through them.

He stopped the car outside the red and white police cordon tape at the arch entrance to the park and got out.

A large policeman automatically stepped in front of him.

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. There's been an incident in the park today."

Sighing, Booth reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet to show the guy his I.D.

"FBI. Special Agent Seeley Booth." He said, holding it up.

The policeman nodded and turned away to speak into his radio.

Booth slammed his car door closed and when he turned around again he saw another cop coming over, his own radio in hand.

This guy had black hair, a moustache and was slightly shorter and much more round than the first guy. He was also wearing a Sheriff's uniform and had the badge pinned on his shirt.

"You the FBI guy?" The man asked, shielding his eyes from the sun and halting in front of Booth.

"Yeah Seeley Booth. Mayor Crime Investigation DC. Just got the call and it seems it just _**had**_ to come to me."

"I'm Sheriff Walker." The man held his hand out and Booth automatically shook it. "I've been waiting for you to arrive. It's a nasty one."

Booth frowned in displeasure. "After the morning I've had I'm not surprised." He said grimly. "You'd better show me."

Sheriff Walker turned around.

"This way then. " He said and Booth followed him, the noise of the crowd fading the further they walked from the entrance.

"The body's by the river, looks like someone tried to bury it but some critter's been hungry. It's not a pretty sight. I've got a cordon around the area. Some of my men are doing a grid search for a weapon. I've got other's trying to keep that lot back." [He gestured behind him with his thumb.] "We've set up a tent for your forensic crew. They're already working on the site, been at it for a while now."

Booth smiled slightly. "So Henderson and his team are already here then? Normally I'm the one who calls _him_."

Sheriff Walker looked at Booth in confusion.

"Him? No it's a _**her**_. There's a woman in charge... and two guys down there. They're from some institute."

Booth stopped in his tracks. "What? They're not from the FBI crime lab?"

Walker shook his head. "No, I don't think so..." He looked Booth up and down. "None of them look like FBI to me." He paused, then added sheepishly. "She said they've got jurisdiction on the case."

"Is that so!" Booth said angrily, wondering why his boss hadn't mentioned _**this.**_ "Well we'll just see about that!"

The Sheriff raised his eyebrows but said nothing as he veered off the path and led Booth up a slope. At the top they looked down at a mass of wild shrubs and long grass before the river. Any other day it would have been a nice sight – the fast-flowing wild river with trees dotted along it's bank. Further along the river were lush green plains, football goals in the distance and a bandstand surrounded by picnic tables.

All of this was destroyed by the first thing Booth noticed - a bright white forensic tent at the water's edge.

The second thing he noticed was the woman standing just outside the tent, talking to a policeman. She wasn't facing him, so he could only see the back of her head – shoulder length auburn hair, pulled back in a ponytail and shining in the sunlight.

He hurried down the slope, pushing brambles and nettles out of his way.

"Hey!" He called out to her, not trying to be nice or polite.

_The woman didn't even turn around. _

She said something to the policeman, who nodded and left her. Then she disappeared inside the tent.

Booth hurried into the tent after her, Sheriff Walker trailing behind him.

Inside, two men wearing bright white forensic suits were kneeling before the bones at their feet.

One man - the older of the two with stubble and a mop of curly, light brown hair - was holding tweezers and some cotton swabs.

The other man - so young and nerdy-looking he looked like he should still be in school - was holding a camera.

The woman was standing with her back to him when Booth entered the tent.

She was instructing both of the other men and was so engrossed in her task, she apparently didn't feel the need to acknowledge anything else.

_Even Booth's arrival._

"Hey!" Booth said again, annoyed.

The woman completely ignored him but both of the men glanced up.

The woman looked at them and snapped. "Zach, Hodgins, pay attention. What did I just say?"

Zach's voice was deadpan as he answered. "You just said Zach, Hodgins, pay-"

Booth's temper flared.

"Hey!" He interrupted...loudly.

It had the desired effect – everyone turned to look at him.

Booth's breathe caught in his throat and he forgot what he meant to say.

He had known exactly what he had been expecting when the woman turned around but what he got _was definitely not it._

She was about his own age, nearly as tall as he was and _well_ - there was no other word for it - she was _**hot.**_

Her skin was white, pale and smooth, with a healthy rose flush. Her lips small and full, with just a hint of red. A few tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail and curled around her heart-shaped face.

She was beautiful, yes, but Booth was mesmerised by her eyes.

They were the most unusual colour he'd ever seen, like they'd started out brown, decided to go blue and half way through changed their minds. The end result was a smoky colour that was not quite either brown or blue.

He finally realised he'd been staring at her, without saying anything, when those incredible eyes narrowed at him.

"_Are you trying to get my attention?"_

It was the first thing she said to him.

Unfortunately, she said it so _innocently_, so _naively_, and with such a _downright blank_ expression on her face_, _that Booth felt his anger flare again and her looks were forgotten.

"No, I'm shouting at the _**other**_ people messing up my crime scene!" He said sarcastically.

The woman opened her mouth but Booth cut her off before she got a word out.

"What the hell are you doing here? Who the hell are you people?" He declared angrily.

The woman's eyes narrowed, with deliberate slowness she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

When she spoke she used the same infuriating tone she had used before. "Since this is a crime scene we are gathering evidence... that is generally how criminals are captured."

_'Is this woman for real?'_ Booth thought, in disbelief.

She didn't appear to be joking but if she wasn't, she was talking to him like he was a simpleton.

"I didn't ask you how criminals are captured! I asked you -"

This time the woman interrupted _**him.**_

"Actually, that is _exactly_ what you asked." She said firmly, looking him straight in the eye. "You asked what we are doing here. I merely answered you. If your second question was more important, then you should have asked it first."

Booth stared at her, stunned into silence.

Nobody had ever spoken to him like this before. Booth was used to nothing but respect as an FBI agent. He had no idea how to react.

The woman used his silence to continue.

"In answer to yoursecond question, my name is Doctor Temperance Brennan. I am a forensic anthropologist from the Jeffersonian Institute. This my assistant Zach Addy [she pointed at the man knelt beside her with a camera in his hands] and my entomologist Jack Hodgins." [She gestured to the elder man with the tweezers.]

Booth ignored both of them, his attention [and irritation] focused on this woman.

"Jeffersonian Institute?" He repeated in bewilderment. "The Natural History Museum? What are you doing-?" He stopped abruptly, realising this question would get him another explanation of how criminals are captured.

"I mean... who actually gave you _**permission**_ to work down here?"

Brennan frowned.

"I don't need _**permission**_ to work anywhere." She informed him frostily. "I'll have you know I'm a celebrated scientist. Other people seek _**my**_ expertise. This morning I received one such request from Director Sam Cullen of the FBI."

Booth was shocked.

"What? _Cullen actually approved this?"_

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "He asked for me personally."

Booth was confused.

"But why didn't he get Doctor Henderson to come down?" He asked himself aloud.

Brennan rolled her eyes in annoyance and exasperation.

"I really have no idea." She answered, in a bored tone. "I suggest you take it up with him. In the meantime I am far too busy to discuss what he did, and for that matter _did not_, say." Her voice was curt. "I have work to do. "

With that, she knelt down next to Zach and started speaking to him.

Booth realised he had just been dismissed and he did not like it.

"We'll see about that." He muttered roughly, through gritted teeth.

He looked at Sheriff Walker, who merely shrugged, as if to say 'don't get me involved.'

Booth stood still a moment more, then turned sharply on his heel, leaving the open tent and stalked back up the slope, the way he had come.

Brennan turned her head just before Booth disappeared from view.

She stood up.

_"Who the hell was that guy?"_ She asked the Sheriff, in a tone of annoyance, as they watched him leave.

Walker looked at her.

"His name's Booth. He's in charge of this investigation... I think."

Brennan frowned.

"If _**he's**_ in charge of this case then it's no wonder the FBI needs my help." She announced harshly, looking down at the bones at her feet, to which Booth did not seem to notice.

_Author's Note._

_Since Booth and Brennan's relationship is all about the crimes they solve, the only way to start it was over a pile of bones. _

_They don't get off to the best start do they?_

_Booth was in a bad mood before he even met Brennan. He loves his son more than anything and having to cut short their time together on what was supposed to be his weekend off... then lots of little things happening – like the jacket, the coffee - and then someone new pushing in on his case and he knows **nothing** about it... well now he's fuming..._


	3. Chapter 2 The Meeting Over Bones

_**Chapter 2. **_

_**The Meeting Over Bones.**_

Booth knocked on a smooth wooden door located in the FBI HQ.

He was so mad he didn't feel like knocking at all.

"Come in."

A male voice spoke from inside.

Booth threw open the door and marched straight up to his boss's desk.

Sam Cullen was a tall, sharp-looking bald man, with silver rimmed glasses. He looked up when Booth entered but did not comment on his behaviour.

"Booth? What are you doing back here so soon? I thought I sent you to a crime scene."

"You did! You also sent someone else who's not supposed to be there!" Booth accused.

Cullen did not flinch.

In fact, he had a resigned look on his face that said he had been expecting this.

"I can assure you Agent Booth," He said calmly. "Everybody at the crime scene is supposed to be there, apart from the victim of course, but that is unfortunate. May I remind you, that _**you **_are also supposed to be there, so I suggest you go back to Weldings Park right now."

"Sir, Doctor Henderson is not there! There's three other squints who say they've got -"

"I know Henderson is not there Booth." Cullen interrupted calmly. "He's not there because I didn't call for him."

Booth's jaw dropped.

"But Sir, Henderson-"

"Henderson has retired Booth."

This stopped Booth in his tracks, but he recovered fast.

"But he's been saying that for ages-"

Cullen frowned. "Exactly. That's the point Booth. Henderson should have retired a year ago. After a long chat he and I have decided -"

Booth started spluttering at this but Cullen cut him off. "He _**and I **_have decided the time is right for his departure."

"But... but... why didn't-?"

"I tell you?" Cullen finished Booth's sentence with a quirk of his eyebrow. "It's simple really... I didn't want you trying to talk him out of it."

His voice was wryly as he continued.

"It's what you've managed to do for the past year. Henderson is now on holiday in England. He left yesterday afternoon so don't even _**think**_ about calling him. He'll be there right now."

Cullen's smile widened.

"It seems you have lost your right-hand man. So I found you a new one."

Booth understood what he meant straight away, his eyes widening. "If you mean _**her**_... there's no way-"

Cullen sighed. "I suppose that means you met Dr. Brennan then."

"I suppose that means you haven't." Booth shot back. "The woman's a nightmare. I only said two words to her and she drove me -"

"That '_**nightmare'**_ is the best forensic anthropologist in Washington." Cullen interrupted sharply. "Probably in the United States. You are very lucky I managed to get her to assist you. She is supposed to be in Guatemala right now, identifying genocide victims. It took a lot of pursuing to get her to delay her trip."

"Then she shouldn't have bothered!" Booth said hotly. "I will not work with her."

"Booth!" Cullen said warningly, raising in his chair. "I have given you lots of rope in the past. You have refused to work with a partner before, for reasons I can only guess at. I have been very understanding because you at least allowed Henderson to do the science. Well now he's gone but I've managed to find you someone who will do the same. I told you I want this business dealt with quickly. Dr. Brennan will help you do that, and for this case at least, _**you will work with her**_**.**"

He sat back down and added, with a half smile. "It can't be all bad. She's supposed to be very attractive."

Booth groaned. "How do you know that?"

Cullen smiled and in answer opened his desk drawer. He picked out a thick black book and slid it across to Booth.

"Bred In The Bone." Booth read the title aloud, then he saw the author's name and his eyes widened. "She's a novelist! You've given me a dam novelist!"

"She's a forensic anthropologist." Cullen declared. "She's not a novelist. She's an author. This is her only book so far but I don't doubt there'll be more. It's very good."

He leaned forward and his voice suddenly sounded amused. "There's a character in this book that reminds me very much of you Agent Booth. I thought it was fitting Dr. Brennan should replace Henderson, it's almost as if she already knows you..."

Cullen sent Booth a smile but Booth didn't trust himself to speak. He scoffed and turned the book over.

On the back was a close-up photo of Temperance Brennan - her hair was down and she smiling – as she held a human skull up to her face.

"She's holding a skull." Booth said, thinking aloud. "I'm not surprised. One of many she has in her cauldron I suppose."

"Booth!" Cullen warned. "If you only said two words to her you didn't give her a fair chance. Now I expect you to go back to Weldings Park and find a way to work with her. That's an order. Her superior Doctor Goodman tells me she's a very able, intelligent and sharp young women. She will be of use to you."

Booth sighed, knowing he had lost.

"Fine." He said irritably. "I've not got Henderson. Once I've got an I.D for the body I'm back on my own and this... this... _**bone lady **_is off to Timbuktu were she belongs."

"Guatemala." Cullen corrected automatically.

Rolling his eyes, Booth made for the door.

"Oh and Booth?"

Booth turned back to his boss.

"You should have this."

Cullen was holding out 'Bred In The Bone' and now grinning from ear to ear.

_Author's Note_

_It's my belief that Booth would have found it difficult to work with a partner in the beginning of his police career after seeing so many of his comrades die during his time as a solider. _

_Henderson was never Booth's partner – he was simply someone from the FBI crime lab that Booth called on for forensic information. _

_Booth worked on his own – and that's exactly the way he wanted it._

_Cullen was not entirely happy about this and when he read Brennan's book, he was amused to note the similarities between Booth and Andy. _

_He remembered Henderson had been close to retirement for some time and decided if he was clever, Temperance Brennan would be a good replacement to work with Booth._

_Even better, Booth couldn't complain because he wasn't getting a partner._

_He was getting a squint._

_The rest, as they say, is history._

_:)_


	4. Chapter 3 The Meeting Of Swords

_**Chapter 3.**_

_**The Meeting Of Swords.**_

Temperance Brennan loved her job.

That was strange considering it mostly involved dead people.

But the dead didn't bother Brennan. They were no trouble at all.

They didn't talk back to her, they didn't let her down and they didn't play games. She got to discover all their secrets and they didn't complain.

On the whole, Temperance Brennan preferred bones to people.

When it came down to it, you couldn't rely on people to tell you the truth, but at least you could rely on their bones to tell you scientific fact**. **

Brennan just happened to be gifted at understanding those scientific facts but she had long since given up understanding actual _**people.**_

She just wasn't so gifted with them.

Brennan's team had just finished taking the preliminary exam of the crime scene. Everything had been done in the careful and methodical way Brennan liked.

Zach and Hodgins knew better than to question Brennan's decisions. They knew she liked to be in control. She liked people doing things her way.

Brennan didn't see it like that of course. She just knew she was more intelligent than most, which usually meant her way was the best way.

Under her guidance, DNA had been preserved, photographs taken, the scene around the area combed for further evidence and soil and insect samples taken for Hodgins to play with.

The bones at Brennan's feet were safely in evidence bags and ready to be transported to her Medico Bio Legal lab at the museum - when the van got here.

Brennan heard footsteps behind her.

"Is the van ready Zach?" She asked, turning. "The bones are ready to go to the Jeffersonian- _Oh, it's you again."_

She had turned around and seen, not Zach Addy, but that annoying cop from earlier.

What was his name again?

_Booth._

He said nothing for some time, just stared at her.

Brennan began to think he made a habit of such things so she prodded him again, saying slowly, "Your - back - then."

On the return drive to Welding's Park, Booth had been calming down after his rough morning.

The scene he witnessed in front of him and the words he had just heard only made his temper flare again.

_"Your taking the body back to the Jeffersonian."_ He said, through gritted teeth.

It was not really a question and Brennan completely missed his tone.

"Yes. We've just finished the preliminary exam of the crime scene. The bones are ready to go back to my lab."

"And _**why**_ _, _may I ask, are they going to _**your**_ lab?"

Brennan was confused by both his question and his tone, so she stated the obvious. "Because that's where we examine bones."

Booth struggled to remain calm. "I _**meant **_as you have only been asked to _**assist**_ the FBI in this case-"

"So you spoke to Cullen then?" Brennan interrupted, but Booth carried on like she hadn't spoken.

"-these bones will be going back to _**my**_ lab at the FBI and you can get me _**my**_ I.D there."

Brennan frowned.

"I don't work for the FBI, Booth isn't it? The Jeffersonian is where I work. We have state-of-the-art equipment and resources that _**your **_FBI can't provide. I must say I find your tone very condescending."

_'Pot. Kettle. Black._' Booth thought.

He almost said it aloud but remembered Cullen's words and decided a different tactic was needed.

He stepped up beside Brennan and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Look Lady..." Booth began, he smiled _the charm smile,_ that usually worked so well at getting him his own way. "Brennan-"

"_**Doctor **_Brennan." She corrected, eyeing him suspiciously. "I have a doctorate."

"Right. Whatever." Booth shrugged. "Look, all I want is an I.D for the bones. Once you've done that I can take it from there. So just take the bones to the FBI crime lab, do your... er... teeth thing -"

"Teeth thing?" Brennan echoed, offended, but Booth was going on.

"- and then _**you**_ can go back to _**your**_ Jefferson place. I'll get on with the case and everyone's happy, deal?"

Brennan's eyes flashed in anger.

"Jeffersonian." She corrected.

"Huh?"

"Jeffersonian _not _Jefferson." She shrugged off his arm from her around shoulders. "And I'm not here just to get you an I.D! I'm here to help find out what happened to the victim. _Something I don't think you care at all about!_"

With this, Brennan marched off in disgust.

Booth stood still a moment, startled by her sudden departure.

Then he went after her.

"Hey!" He called out. "Hey!"

"And my name is not '_Hey' _" Brennan snapped, unable to stop herself as she whirled around at once. "There **are** other ways of getting people's attention."

"It worked this time, didn't it?" Booth retorted with a smirk, as he pointedly looked down at her feet, to indicate that she had indeed stopped.

Brennan narrowed her eyes and scowled at him.

"So I _am_ right... you don't care about this case." She accused heatedly. "You only care about being a _jackass__**.**_"

Booth found himself standing alone again as she stomped off for the second time.

"For heaven's sake! Of course I care about the case!"

She didn't answer.

Just carried on walking.

Now _**Booth **_was offended.

He caught up to her in a few strides, manoeuvring himself in front of her.

"Hang on a minute. Wait-"

Brennan only made to push past him.

"Listen-" Booth put his hand on her arm in an attempt to stop her.

It worked.

Brennan stopped, but her eyes dropped to his hand and she said dangerously "Get... out... of ...my ...way."

Booth heard the challenge in her tone.

He met her gaze and was taken aback by how furious she looked.

He took a step to the side, so he was no longer in her way.

Brennan started walking again.

"Of course I care about the case." Booth's repeated, quietly, to her retreating back.

"Do you?" Brennan called haughtily, over her shoulder. "You couldn't even arrive on time this morning!"

Booth remembered Parker and his temper grew.

"Now wait a minute! That's none of your business!" He declared, following her. "As soon as I got the call I made very hasty arrangements to get down here!"

Brennan scoffed.

"Why did you bother?"

She stopped to look at him.

"When you arrived you did nothing but... but... _**sulk**_ about me being here."

"Sulk!-" Booth began, outraged, but Brennan spoke over him, her voice heavy with disgust.

_"Y__ou didn't even notice the bones at your feet!" _

"Of course I noticed the body!" Booth shot back. "I just noticed _**you**_ first!"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Booth realised how they sounded.

Brennan stared at him.

"I... I mean..." Booth struggled to explain. "I mean... I noticed you because... I didn't... er... know who you were..."

Booth felt himself going red.

"Look, of course I care about this crime." He added quickly. "I just don't like it when people make plans without telling me first. Like Cullen did with you and now _**your **_doing with the remains. Everything goes by me. It's my case. I'm in charge."

Brennan looked at him.

She processed everything he had just said, drew her own meaning from it and came to a conclusion.

Then she nodded in apparent understanding.

"So you have a problem with change." She declared aloud.

Booth stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"You have a problem with change." She stated again, matter-of-factly. ""Anthropologically speaking, in a cultural hierarchy it's natural for you to feel threatened against what could be perceived as a challenge to your status."

_"What the hell are you going on about?" _

"I'm just saying that as an FBI agent your used to having power over others which would make it difficult to accept change."

Booth was shaking his head and spluttering in reply.

"It does not-"

"It's nothing to be ashamed off."

"I'm not ashamed!-"

"Many people have a problem with change. The phobia's called-"

"_The phobia!" _Booth spluttered, goggle eyed.

Brennan carried on like he hadn't spoken.

"Metathesiophobia. Your job allows you to exert authority so you would be sensitive to changes that are not implemented by you-"

"I'm not sensitive!" Booth bristled.

"It's natural for you to dislike a change that threatens your authority."

"My authority is not being threatened!"

"The fact _**I'm here **_has threatened your authority. As I said..."

Brennan stressed the point.

"_You have a problem with change." _

Booth's eyes flashed.

"That does it!" He declared angrily.

Now_** h**__**e**_ was the one walking away from _**her**_.

"Where are you going?" Brennan asked, bewildered.

"I can't listen to another word of that!" Booth declared, crossly. "I can't work like this!"

Brennan's eyes narrowed.

"And that's _**my**_ fault?" She retorted hotly. "You're the one who keeps being so sensitive-"

"I told you I'm not sensitive! Stop saying that!" Booth scowled as he whirled back around. "How can Cullen _actually_ expect me to work with you? It would be like... like Wile E Coyote falling in love with the Road Runner!"

Brennan frowned. "I don't know what that means."

"It means your driving me Looney Tunes!"

"I don't know what that-"

"Your driving me crazy!" Booth burst out. "Totally dam crazy!"

"The only place that I want to drive you is away from me!" Brennan retorted, her own temper rising.

"Well that's fine by me because I don't want to work with you either! Let's face it _**Bone Lady**_, we are never going to agree!" Booth raged. "On anything!"

"Too right!" Brennan declared, nodding.

And then she froze.

Booth' eyes widened.

They stared at each other in shock.

They were both thinking the same thing.

_Oh My God. Did we actually just agree on something?_

There was an awkward silence.

A _**long**_ awkward silence.

_Say something. _Booth thought. Then...

_Say anything._

"So er... _**Bones**_... " It just came out. "I guess you'd... er... better fill me in... on the case..."

Brennan raised an eyebrow.

After a pause she asked. "At the Jeffersonian then?"

It was not really a question.

Booth sighed. "Yeah okay... not that I'm agreeing with you or anything though."

Brennan smiled at him for the first time.

She turned to walk away but stopped when she remembered something.

"Oh and Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me Bones."


	5. Chapter 4The Meeting At The Jeffersonian

_**Chapter 4. **_

_**The Meeting At The Jeffersonian. **_

Temperance Brennan stood at the examining table in her lab, studying the bones from the park.

"The victim is an adult female, between 18 to 22 years of age."

She spoke into a tape recorder as she made her observations.

"Measurements taken from the victim's foot suggests she would have been small in height, at between five foot one to five foot three inches tall."

Zach was also there, standing directly opposite her at the examining table and assisting in the examination.

Booth stood on her right, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"The victim was killed elsewhere and buried in a shallow grave, at the edge of the Welding River. The depth of the grave, at... _[she paused to look at her written notes]_ … only 30 centimetres, suggests it was done in great haste. The poor way they were disguised means the bones were found fairly soon after burial and dug up by a raccoon – there are teeth marks on the phalanges, metacarpals and carpals of the victim's left hand. "

"Definitely from a raccoon?" Booth inquired.

Brennan looked up at him.

"We'll compare the teeth marks for evidence purposes but yes... I know raccoon teeth from human ones."

"These marks -" Zach added, showing Booth indentations on the victims hand bones. "_Here _and _here_. The _carnassial indentation _is too long and sharp to be those of a human. "

"Well that's something." Booth muttered, adding darkly. "At least it's not a copycat Hannibal Lector."

"I don't know what that means." Brennan said, frowning.

Booth rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Can you tell how long she was buried for, before the raccoon dug her up?"

Brennan made a face. "The acidity of the water and the soil seems to have hastened the decomposing of the body. It's exposure to the elements by the raccoon won't have helped either. At the moment my best guess is two days at most. Raccoons have an good sense of smell. My entomologist will be able to give us a clearer picture after he tests the water and soil samples we took from the river but based on what we have so far I'd put time of death at four weeks ago."

"Four weeks ago huh? How long will it be till we know for sure?"

Brennan smiled slightly at his impatience.

"Not long. Hodgins is very good at his job."

Zach smiled awkwardly at Booth. "His favourite things are bugs and slime."

"Sounds like a great guy to know then." Booth quipped, rolling his eyes.

He turned back to Brennan.

"How about _**cause**_ of death? What about that?"

"The body's not in great condition. I've got Zach here x-raying all the bones we have. Once we've examined them in better detail we'll have more information. I can _**see**_ extensive damage to the chest area though."

"A knife wound?" Booth enquired.

Brennan shook her head. "No, too much extensive damage. Seven of the victim's ribs are fractured and that would have taken a lot of power and force. There is also damage to the femur of the right leg and tibula and fibula on the left leg."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Booth asked Brennan, grimacing.

"It doesn't mean anything yet, not until we've got the x-rays as proof." Brennan replied smoothly.

"Logically though," Zach interrupted. "The victim appears to been beaten to death, repeatedly punched in the chest area and kicked in the backs of the legs."

Brennan glared at him and Zach quickly ducked his head and pretended to be engrossed in his work.

"So she's set upon, beaten up and tried to run away." Booth surmised, thinking aloud. "Which could mean she didn't known her attacker."

"You can't make assumptions like that." Brennan protested. "People run for all sorts of reasons. Anthropologically speaking, the need to run from danger stimuli is programmed into our DNA. It's one of the seven life processes."

"I said _**could **_mean. _**Could**__." _Booth said irritably. "It's part of my job to make connections. Join the dots Bones."

Brennan's eyes flashed.

_**"I said **_don't call me Bones."

They glared at each other.

Zach looked from one to the other and attempted to defuse the situation.

He cleared his throat.

"The victim was found because the phalanges on her left hand were poking out of the soil." He said loudly. "I suggest the raccoon must have smelt the flesh and attempted to dig it out."

"I concur." Brennan agreed.

"Now who's making assumptions?" Booth asked, annoyed.

"It's an assumption based on logical _**fact."**_ Brennan stressed the last part. "Raccoons _are_ scavengers and they _do_ take what they can find and they _do_ hunt near water. It's logical that the raccoon smelt the body and chewed on the bones."

She turned back to the recorder and said. "The fourth phalanx or 'ring' finger, as it's known, is broken, which is probably a result of the raccoon's attempts to unearth the body."

"Okay Bones. Okay." Booth threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I get the picture. The raccoon tried to dig up the body and messed up the hand. The hand is not the cause of death though, right? I need a cause of death and time of death and a name for the dead guy. So just get me that, okay?"

"Girl." Brennan said.

"What?"

"It's a dead girl. Not a man. The shape of her pelvic bone suggests a female -"

Booth sighed in frustration. "Girl, woman, lady, transvestite, at this moment all I want is an I.D. As soon as I find out _**who**_ _**this girl is,**_ I can start to understand _**why**_ someone may have wanted her dead."

"You think you can find out who killed her from her life story?" Brennan scoffed. "People lie. The answers are in the bones. Bones don't lie."

Booth indicated the bones on the table. "Even when they're in as much of a mess as this?" He shot back.

He marched right up to Brennan and leaned towards her, so they were facing each other across the examining table.

"Let me tell you something right now. You spend forever locked up in your lab, playing with your microscope and squinting at what's under it. You can find out loads of things yes, but you can't tell me anything about _**people**_. How someone was feeling, how emotions effect the way they act. You can't tell me if this woman was sad, or happy, or bubbly, or quiet. You can't tell me if people liked her cos she was good and honest, or if they hated her because she was some scientist, who thinks she's smarter than everyone else -"

Brennan went to interrupt but Booth cut her off.

"-You can't tell me what motivated this woman to get up in the morning. What was this woman's reason for living Bones? We know someone else sure didn't agree with her..."

There was silence for a few seconds after Booth's speech.

Brennan was glaring at him in anger but when she spoke she just said hotly "I told you _**not **_to call me Bones."

"_**I **_won't call you Bones, Sweetie, if you tell _**me **_what I can call _**him." **_

Everyone in the room turned to the sultry voice which had come from the doorway.

Booth saw a rather attractive women standing there, smiling at him and leaning against the door frame. Her hair was long and very dark brown, hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. She had dark eyes and tanned dark skin to match. She was wearing a black skirt and blouse, with red high heels. In one hand she was holding some files.

She sashed over to them, eyeing Booth, with seductive eyes.

"Why didn't you mention anything about _**this?" **_She asked Brennan, flashing a smile. She stopped in front of Booth, eyeing him up blatantly. "You are _**delicious**_." She drawled.

"Angela!" Brennan cried.

Angela turned back to Brennan and started laughing. "Well Sweetie he is! I can totally see why you kept him a secret!"

"I never-"

Angela had already turned back to Booth. "You'll have to excuse Temperance. She never mentions the really _juicy_ men in her life and you are positivity _**thirst-quenching**_."

Booth started laughing too.

"Angela! The man is not a drink!" Brennan exclaimed, in an annoyed tone. "Now, is that file for me?"

She had tried to change the subject but Angela would not let it drop.

"She really doesn't want to introduce us, does she?" Angela asked Booth, grinning at him.

"I'm Angela. I work here at the Jeffersonian too. Mostly facial reconstruction. You must be with the police or some other heroic job." She lent in close to him and whispered. "You just _**scream**_ knight-in-shining armour."

Booth laughed. "I don't think you need to be rescued!"

Angela shook her head, smiling. _"__**I**_ don't." She agreed.

She turned to Brennan and abruptly pushed her friend towards Booth.

"But Bren here's another story."

"Angela!" Brennan exclaimed, stepping away from Booth like she'd been burned. "I do not need rescuing from anyone!"

"Not in the physical sense Bren." Angela told her.

She turned back to Booth and informed him. "Bren here knows self defence but she could really do with a man in her life to while away her lonely days-"

"Angela! He's an FBI agent and he's handling this case! He's not here because of me! Now please-"

Angela sighed dramatically in defeat. "Fine then. Sue me for trying to bring you some fun. Just don't say I never do anything for you Bren."

She turned back to Booth and held out her hand. "Let's start again. I'm Angela Montenegro. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Booth reached out his hand, smiling. "I'm Booth."

"First name?" Angela asked, not letting him go.

"No last. Seeley's my first."

"Seeley." Angela tested the name aloud. "I like it. Seeley Booth. It suits the whole tall, dark and handsome thing you've got going on here."

Booth smiled at her. "I prefer Booth." He said, winking. "More macho."

"Oh brother." Brennan scoffed. She rolled her eyes. "Can we get back to the case? Angela do you have something for me?"

Angela tore her attention from Booth and nodded at Brennan.

"Yes actually I do. I've got you a name from the computer database. She's had recent work done on her teeth and I got a match from the teeth mould you took at the crime scene."

She put the files on a desk and spread them out. "This is the details for Sarah Jenkins. Reported missing on May 15th-"

"Four weeks ago." Booth read quietly from the file and he looked up at Brennan.

She sent him a satisfied smile in return.

Avoiding her eyes, Booth averted his gaze back to the files.

On the front of one page was a photo of a beautiful young girl, with ice blue eyes and lots of straight, golden blonde hair. Her smile was wide, open and showing a perfect row of straight, brilliant white teeth.

"She's 19." Booth said, reading aloud.

Angela nodded. "Yes. Her mother reported her missing from home."

"She lived on Wren Street." Booth said. "That's less than fifteen minutes walk from Weldings Park."

"I think I remember reading about this." Angela commented, thoughtfully.

"Yes it was in the newspapers a few weeks ago." Booth agreed. "It wasn't given much attention though. There was talk she was a runaway."

"Well they were _**wrong**_." Brennan declared suddenly, eyes narrowed.

Booth looked at her.

"Yeah looks like they were." He said grimly, glancing at the bones laid out on the examining table.

"Are you sure the teeth are a positive match for Sarah?" He asked Angela.

"Yes." Angela nodded without hesitation. "This is Sarah Jenkins."

She indicated the body with a wave of her hand.

There was a moment's silence.

"I'd better be going." Booth declared finally, picking up the files.

"What?" Brennan frowned. "Where?"

Booth looked at her like it was obvious. "To inform the Jenkins we have found their daughter."

"Well I'll join you-"

"Oh no you won't." Booth interrupted at once. "This is not science. This is _**people.**_ This is cop work. Besides, your not authorised to be out in the field."

"I'm authorised by Director Cullen to-"

"-examine the remains." Booth finished her sentence, slightly smug. "Nothing else. You may be _**a celebrated scientist **_[_he used her own words with a grin_] to some people but to me your just a civilian, which means I'm in charge and I say you _**will not **_be coming with me. Stay here and get me cause of death-"

"There's nothing I can do till Zach gets me the x rays. The family can give me important insights. They have her medical history. Besides I want to offer my condolences-"

"These people don't want your condolences. They want their daughter back. " Booth said hotly. "Something you can't understand from a microscope."

Brennan visibly flinched from Booth's words but recovered quickly. "I want to help-"

"The only way you can help them is to get in your lab and do the work you know." Booth said firmly. "Leave the cop work to me."

With this, he turned and strode out of the room.

Angela looked at Brennan.

She did not miss the hurt look that briefly flashed across her friend's face.

Angela knew Brennan was stubborn enough to take in what Booth had just said and not let it go.

"Sweetie? If you need me I'll be in my office." Angela said.

Brennan looked up.

"Right... yes... fine..." She muttered, looking lost in thought.

Angela felt bad for leaving her friend but a prep talk could wait.

If she was going to help Brennan in the long run she needed to catch Booth and have a quick word with him.

It was a small, but nevertheless, very important mission.

Damage control.

_Author's Note. _

_Thanks for all the comments so far. I'm glad your enjoying reading this. _

_I know from the pilot Booth didn't treat Brennan all that great in their previous case and she didn't want to work with him again. _

_Nevertheless I hope you can feel some chemistry emerging. _

_P.S please remember I'm not Kathy Reichs or a forensic buff but I'll do my best! :) _


	6. Chapter 5 The Meeting In The Elevator

_**Chapter 5.**_

_**The Meeting In The Elevator.**_

Angela caught up with Booth as he got into the elevator.

"Going down or up?" He asked, surprised to see her hurrying towards him.

"I'm going down too. My office is on the ground floor."

Booth pressed the button for the ground floor.

He and Angela stood side by side, the only ones in the elevator.

Angela knew she only had a few seconds and wondered how to start but Booth spoke first.

"So... working with Bones must be..." He struggled to find a word.

"Hellish?" Angela supplied after a moment, smiling at him.

Booth returned her smile. "I was going for 'difficult' but we can use your word."

Angela laughed. "Does that mean you've decided you don't like her?"

"I never said that..." Booth said quickly. "I just think she's very..."

"Difficult?"

Booth smiled. "I was going to say 'stubborn' but again we can use your word."

Angela laughed again. "You've only just met her though, haven't you?"

"Yes. How long have you known her?"

Angela smiled. "Forever..." She paused and looked at him, grinning. "She's my best friend."

Booth was visibly shocked. "Really?"

"Don't look so surprised." Angela scolded him lightly, still smiling.

"I'm sorry... it's just your so... so-"

"Different?"

Booth smiled. "Yes. Right word again. Different."

"Yeah we are but once she knows you Bren's very loyal. She's a really good friend."

There was a second of silence.

"I'm sorry if I offended you." Booth apologised.

"Don't worry about it." Angela said, sincerely. "Lots of people think the same when they first meet Bren. She's not good at making friends. The job doesn't make it any easier though. I mean looking at dead bodies isn't exactly fun."

"So you don't like working here?" Booth asked.

"It's not that. I'm an artist. Not a scientist. I still see the person in the bones. Bren doesn't anymore. She's told me lots of times. It's never the worse thing she's seen."

"Is that why she's like that? So... so..."

"Unique?" Angela supplied, smiling.

Booth cocked an eyebrow. "I can think of a better word." He replied wryly.

Angela laughed at this, but paused, choosing her next words carefully.

Brennan was a very private person and would hate for her best friend to blab her secrets but Angela also knew if he and Brennan were going to get along Booth would have to know a few things Brennan may not want him too.

Any second, the lift doors would open and Booth would be gone. Angela decided desperate measures were called for.

Reaching out, she jabbed the button for the emergency stop on the lift and it immediately shuddered to a halt.

"Hey!" Booth cried, shocked. "What are you doing?-"

Angela cut him off, turning to face him.

"Look Booth, I'm going to cut to the chase. I know what Bren is like and I also know she has a habit of starting off on the wrong foot with people, mostly because, Bren isn't like most people. She's ten-times smarter than most people for one. She can be difficult. I won't deny that. She can be hard-headed and stubborn and infuriating too, at times, but none of it is her fault. She wasn't born this way. She was _**made **_this way."

Booth frowned. "What do you mean?"

Angela took a deep breathe. "Okay... here goes... you're a cop aren't you?"

Booth nodded, greatly puzzled. "Yeah so?"

"Then put your cop's badge on and maybe do a little digging in your _**own**_ database."

Booth's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting I look up-?"

Angela interrupted him. "All I'm saying is that once you've discovered a few things about Brennan, you may understand _**why **_she can be so hard-headed and stubborn and infuriating at times and it might help you get along. It may also help you solve this case. Despite what you think of her, all Brennan cares about is the truth. She cares that Sarah gets justice, which is something you should _**both**_ have in common."

Angela turned and pressed the lit display for the ground floor and the elevator started moving again. She sighed. "Just do me a favour and give Brennan a chance okay? Once you get under the surface you may find that none of the other stuff matters anymore."

The elevator shuddered to a stop and the door's opened.

Angela stepped out of the lift first, turning back to Booth, she added. "Oh and just so you know..."

"What?" Booth asked.

"This conversation never happened." Angela said sweetly. "If you mention what I said in there I'll lie worse than Pinocchio."

She smiled broadly at him, then walked away, down the corridor but she didn't forget to call back over her shoulder.

"It was nice meeting you."


	7. Chapter 6 The Meeting Outside The House

_**Chapter 6.**_

_**The Meeting Outside The House.**_

Angela had left Booth with lots to think about but all of it flew out of his head when he arrived at number 7 Wren Street, the victim's family home.

It wasn't the throng of reporters at the bottom of the road that did this, or the look of despair that befell the detached property.

It wasn't even what he had come to do – informing a victim's family of their loss never got easier and Booth had already done it many times.

Booth had taken a quick detour to the FBI before coming here.

He'd had a discreet look around in the FBI database, searching for a particular file. He'd been shocked by the initial information on it, about an unsolved disappearance fifteen years ago and he'd not had time to go through everything. Now he understood what Angela had been trying to tell him and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Brennan's past wasn't really any of his business but he was starting to think he might have judged her harshly.

Maybe he should try and get along with her.

As he pulled up beside the house he saw that wasn't going to be easy.

Brennan was already there.

Waiting for him.

She was leaning against the front of her own car.

When his car pulled up behind hers, she couldn't resist smiling smugly at him through his windscreen.

Booth didn't move, trying to control his temper and remember what he'd just resolved to do.

Brennan used that time to walk over to his car and speak to him through the open window:

"What took you so long?"

Booth felt his anger flare again.

"What are you doing here Bones?" He said, through gritted teeth, staring straight ahead and not looking at her.

"I asked my question first." Was Brennan's curt reply.

"Cut the crap." Booth hissed, turning to look at her. "I said you couldn't come with me. How did you know the address?"

Brennan shrugged. "You said it was Wren's Street in the lab. Since there are only eight houses on this road I just looked for the mailbox that said Jenkins."

Sure enough, there was a metal mailbox for the house just two metres away.

Booth was pissed. At himself, for giving her the information to defy him, but mainly at her.

This woman knew exactly how to piss him off.

He got out of the car and stood next to Brennan.

"Look _**Bones**_, let's get one thing straight right now. I am the cop in charge of this case. What I say goes. When I tell you to do something you just do it-"

"You didn't tell me what to do. You told me what _**not **_to do." Brennan retorted smoothly. "I had every intention of _**not**_ doing, what you told me _**not**_ to do, but then I got a call from Sheriff Walker. Since I do not have your number I thought I'd better come down and inform you of developments in the case. One of his men found some blood near the bandstand in the park. I dropped Zach off, to get a sample to see if it's the victim's and I still managed to get here before you did. What were you doing?"

Booth ignored her question.

"Well now you've told me you can leave me _**alone **_to do this." He said forcefully.

He turned and started walking up the long driveway.

Brennan started to follow him. "Now that I'm here-"

"No." Booth said at once, not looking at her.

Brennan was irritated.

"You don't seem to realise how fortunate you are to be working with me-" She began tartly.

"_**Goodbye**_ Bones."

Brennan could tell he was smirking.

She stood still, debating her next move.

She quickly realised he didn't have to do anything she asked. In the end, she wasn't the cop.

He was.

She didn't think.

She just blurted it out.

"I want to come in with you."

Booth stopped.

There was something in the tone of her voice.

Was she _pleading _with him?

He turned around and walked back to her.

"Why Bones?" He asked, when he came face to face with her. "Why do you want to come in with me? I'm about to tell this family they have lost a loved one. They're never going to see Sarah again. Why do you want to be there when I tell them that?"

There was a long moment's silence.

Booth tried to look Brennan in the eye but she wouldn't look at him.

She shifted from foot to foot.

Finally she spoke.

"Because I want to tell them that... I'll _try_ for them." She admitted quietly, still refusing to meet his gaze. "They need to know that someone cares."

Booth remembered Brennan's file and knew she was speaking from past experience.

It was the first time she had said the victim's name.

It was the first time he'd heard her sound... nervous?

Unsure of herself?

_**Human. **_

Looking at her standing vulnerable before him, Booth felt a tiny bit of Brennan's hidden pain.

"I care too."

He meant it.

Brennan heard it in his voice because she lifted her eyes and finally met his gaze.


	8. chapter 7 The Meeting With The Parents

_Author's Note._

_I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has left me reviews. I am a 'lazy' writer but your enthusiasm for this story has made me WANT to continue so a big thank you for that. _

_The next chapter's a bit long but stay with me because there's lots of important plot information here and I'm trying to create a fab whodunit as well as some fab Brennan and Booth chemistry. _

_Happy reading :) _

_**Chapter 7**_

_**The Meeting With The Parents.**_

"Just follow my lead and do what I tell you to do... and _**not **_to do." Booth told Brennan firmly.

They were standing outside the front door of the Jenkins house. Booth rang the doorbell and he and Brennan used the time, before anyone answered, to look around.

The house was a fairly large, semi-detached building in a nice neighbourhood. There were two garages to the right of the property. The garden was large too but it looked uncared for. The grass was patchy. The roses were dishevelled. The hedges needed trimming. It looked as though it hadn't been tended to for a few weeks.

'_Maybe four._' Booth thought sadly, thinking of Sarah's disappearance.

The door opened, just a crack, and a man peered out.

"Mr Jenkins?" Booth asked uncertainly. "Richard Jenkins?"

The man's eyes grew wide but he nodded.

Booth flashed his I.D.

"I'm Agent Booth with the FBI. This is Doctor Temperance Brennan. May we come in?"

Mr Jenkins nodded again and took the chain off the door.

"I suppose you'd better." He said thickly, his shoulders visibly slumping. He stepped to the side, allowing them entrance.

They followed him into what normally would have been a nice, warm living room.

It was a cream and gold themed room with ceiling-to-floor windows, that let in lots of light. Today, the cream curtains were closed most of the way. A woman was sitting on the gold-coloured sofa, looking out through the small gap that remained.

When they entered, she turned vacant, watery blue eyes on them.

They saw she was in her fifties, her dirty blonde hair had been cut into a short, low maintenance style. She was wearing a long skirt with a thick, woolly black cardigan wrapped several times around her. She was holding a handkerchief in her hand.

"Maggie... they've come." Mr Jenkins sat down next to his wife, immediately taking her hand.

He was well-dressed, in smart trousers and a cashmere sweater but his face was wrinkled and lined with worry, his hair already light grey, making him look far older than his fifty years.

The woman's eyes turned even more watery.

"Maggie Jenkins?" Booth asked. "I'm Agent Booth with the FBI. This is Dr. Temperance Brennan."

They sat down opposite her, on a two-seater gold sofa.

"You're a doctor...?" Maggie turned hopeful eyes on Brennan. "Does that mean she's alive-"

"I'm not a medical doctor." Brennan explained. "I work with bon-"

Booth cut her off. "Dr. Brennan is from the Jeffersonian Institute. She's... assisting me today."

He sent Brennan a warning glance.

"I'm afraid I have some news for you." He told Mr and Mrs Jenkins.

Maggie burst into tears.

Mr Jenkins did his best to comfort her. "Maggie... Maggie please... don't cry love." He rocked her in his arms. "We knew. We knew." He repeated.

"What did you know?" Booth asked, gently.

"You've come about _**her**_ haven't you?" Mr Jenkins asked. "Sarah?"

He pointed to a framed photo on the fireplace. "You've come to tell us that she's the one you found in the park."

In the photo, Sarah Jenkins was smiling confidently for the camera. She really was a beautiful girl. Her long golden locks were pulled into a loose bun. Her ice blue eyes glowed with laughter. Her smile was pretty and wide – showing sparkling, white teeth.

Booth nodded. "I'm afraid so. It has been confirmed."

Mr Jenkins face crumpled as his wife's body shook with sobs.

"We thought she'd ran away you see." He said quietly, looking at them. "We thought she'd be back... but this morning... after the News... the parks only ten minutes walk away... we still dared hope but..." He trailed off, shaking his head sadly.

For a long moment no one spoke.

Mr Jenkins rocked his wife as she cried into his arms. His eyes looked glazed. Her sobs were the only sound in the room.

The air was thick with the couples pain.

"I'm sorry."

It just came out.

Everyone turned to look at Brennan.

She opened her mouth as if to say something else - but nothing came out.

Booth realised at once she was upset to witness such obvious grief and didn't know how to handle it.

He immediately went to her rescue.

"We are _**both**_ very sorry for your loss." Booth said, covering for her. "On behalf of the FBI, you have our deepest sympathy."

"Your certain it's her?" Mr Jenkins said, half hopefully. "You could've made a mistake-"

Brennan shook her head. "She was identified through her dental -"

"There's no doubt it's her." Booth interrupted.

"How... how... was she... did... did... she... suffer?" Maggie stuttered, she looked at Brennan but it was Booth who answered.

"She died quickly." Booth said, lying through his teeth.

Brennan looked at him sharply but Booth sent her a look back, challenging her to correct him.

Brennan said nothing.

Booth turned back to the Jenkins. "I know it's very hard but we need to ask you a few questions if your up to it."

"We already told the police everything we could remember." Mr Jenkins said glumly. "They didn't take it seriously then."

"Mr Jenkins I can promise you that the FBI will be taking this _**very **_seriously." Booth said firmly. "We want to find the person responsible for what happened to Sarah."

Booth glanced at Brennan and sent her a brief nod.

She realised he was giving her a chance to speak.

"I'm a Forensic Anthropologist." She looked Sarah's mother in the eye. "I am the best in my field." She said it without pride, just honesty, which made it even more true. "I will find out who's responsible for Sarah's death."

Tears leaked down Mrs Jenkins face. She turned to her husband and held tighter to his hand.

"It was four weeks ago." Maggie whispered. "She disappeared four weeks ago. May 15th. It was a Saturday. I was the last person to see her."

She looked at her husband, who started rubbing his wife's hands soothingly.

"Richard here, had gone fishing. It was just Sarah and I alone in the house. Then Sarah got a call on her mobile. She said she was going out. It was getting late and I didn't want her to go."

More tears leaked down Mrs Jenkins face and she brushed them away.

"What time was it?" Booth asked.

"Nearly eleven. I stood at her bedroom door and I watched her putting on her make up... then she told me she loved me and she wouldn't be long."

Maggie broke down again, crying.

"I... told... her... I'd... drive...her but she... ssssaid no. She wanted to walk. It's only a... a few streets away. I thought she'd be... okay."

More tears came, in a never-ending flow.

Booth waited for a moment before he asked his next question.

"Where did Sarah say she was going?"

Mrs Jenkins sniffed. "She said Rob had called. She said she was going round to his house."

"Rob?"

"Robert Jones. Her boyfriend. He said he didn't see her that night... He must be lying. He's got to be. He seemed like such a nice boy but maybe..."

"You've met him then?" Booth said.

"Yes. Just once. About six months ago. She brought him round to meet us. She said I was nagging." Maggie smiled at the memory, then frowned. "She was so cagey about him. He seemed nice but what if-"

"Maggie please." Mr Jenkins interrupted abruptly and Mrs. Jenkins fell silent, looking at her husband timidly.

"Can I have Robert's address? We will need to talk to him." Booth said.

"21 Farehill Road." Mrs Jenkins said softly. "It's only two streets away."

"Thank you." Booth said jotting it down.

"What was Sarah wearing that night Mrs Jenkins, when she left the house?"

"Er... a short black skirt. Pink sweater and boots. Black boots." Mrs Jenkins sniffed. "I told her to take a jacket but she wouldn't. She said it was too humid."

Booth jotted this down in his notebook.

"Mr Jenkins why did you say earlier you thought Sarah ran away?" Brennan asked suddenly.

Mr Jenkins went to speak but his wife interrupted, scowling at her husband. "Sarah never ran away. Never. She would never hurt us like that."

"They found a note." Mr Jenkins said quietly. "The police searched the house and-"

"It didn't say she was running away!" Mrs Jenkins exclaimed, seething. "It said she had fallen in love and she needed a break. _A break_ that's all. It didn't say she was never coming back! It was in the bin for goodness sake! She never meant it. The police didn't even bother..." She trailed off.

"Do you still have the note?" Booth asked gently.

"Yes." Mr Jenkins nodded.

He went to retrieve it from a drawer and handed it to Booth, with Brennan looking over his shoulder as they read the page together:

_Dear Mom and Dad, _

_I know this is going to hurt you but I've got to leave for a while. I've made some silly choices but I did them for love. Please don't be too mad at me and know I will call you as soon as we're sorted._

_Love you loads._

_Sarah. _

"She didn't take anything with her that night?" Booth asked.

Mrs Jenkins shook her head. "Just her handbag. Phone. Keys." She hesitated, glancing at her husband and then added. "Nothing else."

"Can you tell me about Sarah?" Booth asked. "It would help to know what kind of person she was. I know it's painful but it's the little things that count."

Mr and Mrs Jenkins looked at each other.

"Sarah was... wonderful." Maggie declared. "She was always the model daughter. She worked very hard at school. We never had to nag her to do her homework. She didn't go out drinking or partying. She studied hard, helped around the house. She was a good girl. We were surprised she didn't go to college but she got a job."

"Doing what?" Brennan asked.

"A secretary at a publishers. Richard used to own it." Maggie glanced at her husband.

"I sold it." Mr Jenkins explained. "It's a Jenningtons now."

Brennan looked at Booth questioningly.

"Jennington Publishers." Booth told her. "There's a chain of them."

"So you don't work there now?" He asked Mr Jenkins.

"No. My best friend brought it from me about a year ago. He owns the Jennington chain. Sarah wanted a job. He agreed as a favour."

"So she was working at Jenningtons when she went missing?" Booth pressed.

Mr and Mrs Jenkins exchanged looks. "No she left the company about four months ago."

"Why did she leave?" Booth asked, intrigued. "Problems?"

"No. No problems." Mr Jenkins said quickly. "Sarah said she wanted to take a year out. She said she'd like to go travelling around the country. She sold her car for it shortly before she disappeared."

"What kind of car?"

"Red BMW convertible."

"Nice." Booth commented. "Pricey."

Mr Jenkins shrugged. "It was her eighteenth birthday present. I brought it for her just before she started working." He smiled slightly.

"Do you know who she sold it too?" Booth asked.

"Does it matter?" Mr Jenkins asked, eyebrows raising. Without waiting for an answer he added "Some guy in the paper."

"How much did she get for it?"

"Not as much as she should have." Mr Jenkins declared, frowning. "That car cost me a bundle. I wasn't happy about her selling it to be honest. She loved that car. She begged me for ages to get it for her."

"Okay what about home life?" Booth asked, changing tact. "Can you tell me about that?"

Mrs Jenkins jumped in. "There's nothing to tell. Sarah is our only child. She and I were very close. She always confided in me. When she was bullied in 10th grade she came straight to me."

Mrs Jenkins looked Booth in the eye, begging him to understand.

"Do you see Agent Booth? Sarah was a good, lovely girl. She'd never have left unless she _**had**_ to. Perhaps Rob was forcing her to go and she changed her mind so he-"

"Maggie please." Mr Jenkins said and Mrs Jenkins fell silent again.

The air was tense.

"I think we have all we need for now." Booth said, finally. "Let me give you my number. Please call me if you remember anything else."

He took a business card out of his wallet and handed it to the Jenkins.

"I want one of those-" Brennan said abruptly, pointing to the business card.

"Later Brennan." Booth hissed. "We'll leave these people in peace."

He got up and Brennan followed suit.

Mrs Jenkins looked at Brennan. "When can we have Sarah back?"

Brennan looked confused. "She's not coming-"

"To lay to rest," Booth said, through gritted teeth. "To lay her _**to rest.**_"

Brennan looked at Sarah's parents.

"I'll be as quick as I can... and as thorough as I can." She said with conviction. "I'll find out what happened and at least you'll know."

"That might be worse than not knowing." Mr Jenkins said sadly. "At least we could pretend-"

Brennan's face grew grave.

"Believe me Mr Jenkins, pretending doesn't make the truth any easier. Take it from me."

Booth knew they were veering onto painful territory for Brennan and steered the conversation away from Bones's past.

"It is okay if we have a quick look in Sarah's bedroom?" He asked. "I always find a room can tell you so much about a person."

Mr and Mrs Jenkins looked at each other.

"It's okay." Mr Jenkins said finally, taking his wife's hand. "Anything that helps."

"Thank you. We'll keep you fully updated on the case."

Maggie nodded. "Do you need me to-" She went to get up but appeared to lose her balance and had to lean on her husband for support. Mr Jenkins looked at her with concern and pushed her gently back down.

"It's fine honey I'll show them-"

Booth knew it would be painful for either one of them going into Sarah's bedroom.

"No it's fine, just tell us which door -?"

"Up the stairs. Second door on the left."

Mr Jenkins hugged his wife to him.

"Could you close the door behind you after you've finished?" He added. His voice grim.

Booth nodded and he and Brennan left the room, leaving Sarah's parents to their grief.

Making their way up the stairs, Brennan spoke aloud, suddenly.

"She's got M.E."

Booth turned around in shock. "Jeez Bones! Keep your voice down! Sarah had what?"

"Don't call me Bones and I was talking about Mrs Jenkins. Maggie. She's got Myalgic Encephalomyelitis or M.E as it's known. It's a medical condition associated with lack of energy. She obviously suffers from joint pain and balance problems. Her bones are fragile, the extra layers of clothing and the protective nature of her husband all point towards-"

Booth rolled his eyes. "Okay, Okay I get it. M.E."

As they reached Sarah's door, which bore a sign that read 'Sarah's Sweet Home,' Brennan had a thought.

"Why are we doing this?" She asked. "The police already searched the house when she went missing."

Booth sighed.

"The police found the goodbye note. All this talk of her taking a year out. They thought she'd run away. They didn't know she was dead."

Booth opened the door, noting there was a lock on the other side.

Stepping into the room, Brennan frowned at the mess.

"What are we looking for exactly?" Brennan asked.

"Use your eyes Bones." Booth said. "Look for things that tell us about Sarah. Then something that doesn't fit."

Brennan sighed. "Don't call me Bones."

She looked around.

The room was large and spacious. In the centre of the room was a beautiful double bed with a deep purple quilt and fluffy matching pillows. The entire left wall was a huge wardrobe - open - showing racks upon racks of clothes. Brennan thumbed through them and found mainly dresses and short skirts. There were rows of shoes below them – all stiletto heeled - Brennan could not find a flat pair among them. There was a dressing table beside the wardrobe, littered with an array of cosmetics, perfumes and jewellery dolls. A large oval mirror hung on the wall above it.

Above the mirror was a long shelf which ran, high up, along most of the right wall. It was home to several trophies. Brennan went over and looked up at the labels:

National Spelling Champion Sarah Jenkins. Aged 9.

English Award First Place. Sarah Jenkins. Aged 12.

Junior Math Second Place Ribbon Sarah Jenkins.

Computing Young Achiever. Sarah Jenkins Aged 13.

Spelling Bee Winner 16 year-old Sarah Jenkins.

Sarah Jenkins. I.T Achievement Award. Aged 17.

'So _she was smart._' Brennan thought. '_The studious type.'_

She glanced at Booth, who was looking at a large message board pinned to the wall on her right. It was like a collage of Sarah's life.

A large number of poloroid photos had been pinned to it. There were a few shots of Sarah alone, some laughing, some smiling and some messing around, all showing off her beautiful looks. One photo, in the front, showed her being given a piggy back ride by a cute-looking guy. They were posing beside Sarah's red convertible.

Beside that was a photo with her arm around a pretty, dark-haired girl, both sticking out their tongues.

Her SATS results were pinned on the board too, with a smiley face drawn around all the top grades. A few cinema stubs had been pinned in place, as well as receipts for various things, a birth certificate and a single silver key.

Booth picked up the key and held it up to the light.

He saw the words 'Jennington Publishing Ltd' printed on it.

"That's interesting." Booth said aloud.

"The fact that she's got a key?" Brennan asked, looking over his shoulder at it.

"The fact she's _**still **_got a key for Jenningtons." Booth turned to her. "Why didn't they ask for it back when she left?"

Brennan shrugged. "Maybe they forgot. Or they trusted her because her father used to own it."

"Maybe." Booth said, but his tone suggested he wasn't convinced.

Brennan's attention was drawn underneath the message board, to a desk which held a laptop and a pile of books.

Brennan's attention had been grabbed by the object on top of the books - a funky yellow and black stapler shaped like a bumble bee.

Brennan smiled at it, amused at the words printed along it's side. 'GREAT WORKER.'

On the shelf, where a printer would have been placed, were folders of various school work instead.

Brennan thumbed through and found all of it had been marked with top grades.

There was also a calculator and various writing materials. Brennan briefly picked up and looked at a nice pen with 'Sarah' engraved on it's side.

Brennan turned and spied a second chest of drawers beside the window and went over to it.

On top of the chest was a huge pile of magazines. Brennan picked up the first one, a real life example, and read the features announced on it''s cover:

_Sugar Daddies. I get his money. He gets my time!_

_My twins were born weeks apart!_

_Love rat left me high and dry! _

Brennan scoffed at the titles.

She put it down and thumbed through the rest of the magazine pile and found mostly real life and fashion examples. She also found a copy of '_Gardening Gold_' which she assumed belonged to Sarah's father.

Brennan attention moved to the drawers and she opened the first one to see it contained underwear and socks. The second drawer contained DVDS. The third drawer contained CDS. The fourth and last drawer held just a shoe box inside. Opening it, Brennan was surprised to find a box of condoms and a supply of birth control pill.

It also contained a single photograph. It was Sarah but she looked different. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and rather than golden blonde, her locks were dirty blonde, more like her mother's colour. She was wearing glasses and although she was smiling, her mouth was closed and she wasn't beaming like in the other photographs.

"Booth." Brennan said.

He looked at her and came over. "What is it?"

"Look at this."

She handed him the demure photo of Sarah.

"She certainty looks different." Booth commented on it.

He turned the photo over. On the back a few simple words at been scrawled across the shiny page:

_**Not me. **_

"What does that mean?" Brennan asked, looking at Booth.

"I don't know." Booth shrugged. "Yet." He added.

He took the photo over to the message board and compared it with the poloroids.

"It _**is **_definitely Sarah. Maybe it's her when she was younger."

Brennan didn't want to agree with him so she said nothing.

She turned and went to put the shoe box back in the drawer, but as she slid the drawer back into place, the rivet collapsed, the drawer fell to the ground and the contents of the box spilled out across the mauve carpet.

"Dam!" Brennan mumbled, bending to pick everything up.

She raised her head and something white just happened to catch her eye.

An envelope had been taped to back of the furniture, behind this drawer, it's white colour vivid against the dark wood.

"Booth." Brennan said and Booth looked up, coming to her side.

"There's an envelope." She told him, pointing.

Booth reached in and pulled the envelope off the back of the chest-of-drawers.

Looking down at it, they saw the envelope had nothing on it but a hand-written name scrawled across the front:

_**Sarah **_

Booth slid open the flap and was met by the sight of money – lots of it.

"There must be thousand of dollars here!" Booth exclaimed, open mouthed.

"Where did Sarah get that?" Brennan asked, frowning. "Is it all from the sale of her car?"

"Can't be. A used car, even a convertible, would only sell for about $10,000, something like that, and there's lots more than that here." Booth said darkly, running his fingers through the money. "Besides, why has she hid it like this?"

A folded piece of A4 paper suddenly floated out of the envelope as he thumbed through it.

It landed at Brennan's feet and she automatically bent down and picked it up.

She opened it out.

It was a photograph of Sarah. She was smiling and looking very beautiful.

She was also _**topless.**_

Booth saw Brennan gasp.

"Bones?" He asked "What is it?"

Brennan was so shocked she forgot to scold him for calling her Bones again.

"This." She breathed.

She held up the photograph.

"This definitely doesn't fit." She said flatly.


	9. Chapter 8 Meeting An Enemy

_**Chapter 8.**_

_**Meeting An Enemy.**_

Brennan and Booth were sitting in Booth's car as a team of cops took various objects out of Sarah's bedroom.

Her laptop went past them, closely followed by two cops carrying Sarah's message board.

Booth watched the work as he listened to Brennan talking to Hodgins on her phone.

"Hodgins says he's got time of death." She told Booth. "It's official. Sarah was killed four weeks ago, between 12 and 2am according to insect activity on the bones."

"Right okay." Booth nodded.

Brennan spoke into the phone.

"Thanks Hodgins. See you soon."

She hung up and turned to Booth.

"So we know Sarah was killed the night she vanished, probably soon after leaving her mother. We need to talk to this Robert Jones. If Sarah met him that night it means he's lying. If Sarah didn't meet him it means _**Sarah lied **_ to her mother."

"I don't know which ones worse." Booth said, gravely. "It's weird but everything we've seen and heard so far tells us Sarah was a good girl. The classic girl-next-door type. This -"

He looked down in his lap, at the topless photograph they had discovered.

"This just doesn't..._** fit.**_.." He sighed. " Quite a few things don't seem to fit after being in her bedroom."

"Like what?" Brennan asked. "The Jennington key?"

"Yeah the key too." Booth made a face. "But I meant Sarah herself. Her parents said she always did as she was told. She worked hard, studied hard, was really smart. Brainy. Probably classic nerd -"

"I take offence at that word." Brennan said, frowning. " 'Nerd' has bad connotations and there's nothing bad about being smart."

Booth carried on like she hadn't spoken.

"-and while the trophies and the computer and the books and even _**this one photo**_ -"

He produced the other, more demure, photo of Sarah out of his pocket and laid it on his lap beside the topless one.

"- all these things back that up... but then there's all this other stuff... stacks of hidden money... running away... and now this topless photo... it all tells me something else."

"What?" Brennan asked, slightly annoyed that she hadn't made these connections.

"That Sarah's parents didn't know her as well as they think they did." Booth said darkly.

Brennan took the topless photo from him.

"You know this may be fake." She said. "It's a _**print-out**_ of a photograph. Maybe someone made it up on their computer."

"True but _**who**_ would want to do that? Then there's the message-"

He turned over the paper in her hands and read aloud the message that was handwritten on the back:

**_What would your Daddy think about this? Stay away or you will be sorry_.**

"The threat is bad enough." Booth announced, frowning. "But you know, something about this message disturbs me even more."

This time Brennan knew what he meant.

"Sarah had an enemy." She declared darkly.

"Exactly." Booth nodded. "And, more importantly, since this is a print-out, _if there's an original photograph, who's got it now?" _

"I think the boyfriend is a good place to start with that." Brennan suggested.

Booth nodded again. "Yes. I hope the boyfriend will be able to explain this photo."

Brennan was looking at the house. "We could go back inside and ask Sarah's parents if they know anything about the photo?" She suggested thoughtfully.

Booth shook his head. "No... whether we like it or not this photo could be a motive. Mr Jenkins is a respectable man. If his straight-laced daughter was stripping off like this... maybe he found out and he snapped. Either way... I'm not going to tell him _**or **_Maggie till I have more information on the _**real**_ Sarah. The Sarah she obviously didn't want her parents to know about."

He pointed to the cops in front of them, loading away Sarah's possessions into a van.

"That laptop should help. People do all sorts of secret things on their computers. The message board too. Sarah's life story hanging on a wall. Then there's these -"

He fished out from his pocket **two** photographs that had been tagged to Sarah's message board - the one of Sarah and the dark-haired girl sticking out their tongues and the one with the guy giving her a piggyback ride.

"I find with teenage girls there are two people in the world they will confide in." Booth told Brennan. "Their _**b**__est_ _**f**__riend_ _**f**__orever_-"

He flipped the first photo over and showed Brennan a message written in Sarah's own handwriting, on the back:

_**'B.F.F Ella OXO.' **_

"And their boyfriend." Booth finished, flipping over the piggyback ride photo where Sarah had written:

**'My lifesaver Rob. Luv ya. x.' **


	10. Chapter 9 Meeting The Boyfriend?

_Author's Note._

_Thanks for all the comments so far. _

_This is another longish chapter but it will be worth it I promise – it sets up more of the whodunnit and you get loads of plot information, essential to understanding the story. You will be rewarded in the chapter after with some of my best banter between Booth and Brennan. _

_Happy reading :)_

_**Chapter 9.**_

_**Meeting The Boyfriend?**_

Brennan was looking forward to meeting Robert Jones but she got a call from Zach as they were about to leave. He needed her back at the Jeffersonian.

The blood sample from the bandstand in the park matched Sarah's DNA.

It was her blood.

Sarah Jenkins had been killed by the bandstand, her body carried to the river's edge and crudely buried.

Brennan trusted Zach, but he didn't have her expertise.

Reluctantly, she got into her own car while Booth headed to Rob's house two streets away.

As he drove, Booth realised he was heading _**away**_ from the park. Rob's house was in the opposite direction to where Sarah's body had been found.

Booth got out his mobile phone and made a quick call to get someone to retrieve the CCTV footage from the camera outside the park's gates.

If Sarah was captured walking in, it meant her body wasn't dumped by her killer. She had met him [or her] there. It also meant, if the second part was true, Sarah trusted her killer, for a teenage girl wouldn't normally go into a park at night, no matter how well lit it was.

Finally, Booth found himself standing at the door of the nice, semi-detached house that was the home of Robert Kevin Jones - 21 Farehill Road.

He rang the doorbell.

Robert himself answered the door.

Booth recognised him immediately as the guy who had been giving Sarah a piggy-back ride in her photograph.

He was very good-looking, the perfect poster for the clean-cut all-American teen. His thick dark hair was fashionably cut and his chestnut brown eyes were clear and intelligent. He was as tall as Booth, muscular and dressed down in black jogging pants and a blue t-shirt embellished with 'Basketball Nation' on the front. There was also some headphones around his neck and a MP3 player sticking out of his pocket.

"Hey man." He said breathlessly.

He had a bottle of water in his hand and sweat on his brow.

Booth produced his I.D. "Robert Jones?"

The guy's eyes widened but he nodded.

"I'm Agent Booth with the FBI. I need to speak with you."

Rob's eyes widened again.

He turned and shouted behind him, up some stairs. "Sis! Sis! Come here! Sis!"

After a second, Booth heard thumping down the stairs. "Rob, I am trying to study!-"

The girl who appeared at the bottom of the stairs was slender and pretty with long dark hair and ivory skin. She was wearing a short grey skirt and a green crop top that brought out the warmth in her chocolate brown eyes.

She was also _**familiar. **_

Booth had seen her before in a poloroid photograph - her arm around Sarah Jenkins, as they both stuck out their tongues.

Booth was looking at the victims B.F.F.

He was momentarily taken aback.

He looked from Rob to Ella, noticing the similarities in their appearance.

"I guess it's Ella _Jones_ then?" He declared. "You two are related."

Rob nodded. "Yes, this is my sister."

"Who are you?" Ella asked Booth, frowning.

Rob looked at her and answered before Booth could. "He's FBI Ella."

His words were full of meaning.

"Your here about Sarah!" Ella gasped, her hands immediately going to her mouth. "Oh my God!"

"The Park?" Rob said, looking at Booth. "It was her?"

Booth didn't like to do this on door steps.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

"Just tell us!" Ella cried suddenly. Then her voice became pleading. "Please... please just say it... Is... Is Sarah dead?"

Booth hesitated... then sighed. "Yes I'm sorry."

Ella immediately started crying.

Rob looked shocked.

Booth shifted, uncomfortable. "Let's go inside." He suggested.

Rob appeared to shake himself as he opened the door wider.

Booth followed the siblings into the living room.

Rob moved a punch-bag away from the settee, picked up the T.V remote and muted the sound of the baseball game on the screen.

Ella collapsed on sofa and her brother went to her immediately, putting his arms around her.

"I know you must be very upset but I'm afraid I have to ask you a few questions about Sarah." Booth said gently, opening his notebook.

"How did she... she... ?" Ella couldn't bring herself to finish her question.

"I'm afraid we are investigating her death as murder." Booth said.

"Oh my God." Ella repeated, while Rob swallowed thickly.

Booth looked at him.

"I believe the police questioned you when Sarah first went missing?" He asked.

"Yes..." Rob nodded, he was quick to add "But I never saw her that night."

"The statement you gave at the time, says you were at home with your sister." Booth read from his notes.

He looked at Ella, who nodded, wiping her eyes.

"It's true." She confirmed, sniffing. "We were watching a DVD. Sarah was supposed to be coming over to watch it with us but she didn't turn up."

Booth looked at Rob.

"According to Sarah's mother, Sarah left the house to come here. Why would she say that?"

"I don't know." Rob frowned. "Maybe her Mom misheard. Sarah never came here. I called her to ask where she was. She said she couldn't make it."

"Were you upset?"

Rob shook his head. "No. It's just a movie. No big deal."

Something about his casual tone caught Booth's attention.

"Tell me about Sarah." Booth said. "What was your relationship like? Did you ever call her late at night before?"

Rob frowned. "No. Why would I?"

"I mean in general." Booth said. "Did you call Sarah alot? Surely you like chatting to your girlfriend?"

For some reason Rob looked at Ella. "I... I'm not a big fan of phones... chatting on the phone I mean." He said lamely.

He looked uncomfortable and it was not lost on Booth.

"How many times a week did you see her?"

Rob looked at Ella again, who was frowning at him.

"I don't know... she came round here a lot..."

Booth looked from Ella, back to Rob.

"I meant to see _**you**_... not your sister." Booth emphasised the last part. "To go on dates with _**you**_."

"Dates?" Rob repeated dumbly.

"Yeah... actual dates... movies... dinner... romantic walks... did you take her on lot's of dates?"

Rob started stuttering. "Y-Yes... of course... we went out... lots."

Booth sensed he was hiding something.

"But it wasn't a date that night?" He pressed.

"Er... yeah. Yes. It was a date." Rob said lamely.

Booth caught him out innocently. "But your sister was there."

Rob looked at Ella.

"Er... it was a date. Sort of."

"Did you love her?" Booth asked suddenly, in an attempt to throw him.

It worked.

Ella drew in a sharp in-take of breathe as Rob stuttered. "Love... well... yeah... I... suppose I did."

Booth was about to pounce on his use of the word 'suppose' but Ella got there first.

"Rob!" She cried, angrily. "Stop it!"

Rob looked at his sister. "Ella-"

"No Rob! Sarah's dead! She's dead! This is serious! We have to tell the truth!"

Booth was concerned. "Ella what do you mean-?"

"Ella shut up!" Rob hissed, looking very angry.

"Ella what do you mean?" Booth pressed. "Ella?"

Rob was looking at Ella and there was fire in his eyes.

"You promised." He hissed.

Ella was crying. "I'm sorry but I can't do this-"

She turned to Booth and suddenly blurted out:

"Sarah and Rob were never going out. They're not a couple."

"Ella!" Rob cried, looking panicked. "That's not true! We were. She's my girlfriend-"

"I'm sorry Rob... but he's got to know... look the truth is Rob is actually g-"

"Don't say it!" Rob cried.

But Booth already knew.

"Your gay?" He asked Rob, greatly surprised.

The silence was heavy.

Rob visibly slumped in his seat, he wouldn't look Booth in the eye.

Booth looked at Ella, she was still crying but she nodded.

"Rob's gay." She whispered softly. "He and Sarah were never a couple."

"But she told her mother you were her boyfriend." Booth said, looking at Rob.

Rob looked at Ella and Ella looked back at him.

"Please Rob... Mom and Dad aren't here... " Ella pleaded. "It's okay."

Rob sighed.

Finally he looked up at Booth.

"I knew about two years ago." He said quietly. "Ella guessed pretty soon after I realised."

"We're close." Ella put in. "Rob's only a year younger than me. I just knew."

"It's so embarrassing." Rob hung his head in shame. "I'm captain of my football team. I run, I box, I love sports." He indicated the T.V where a match was on and the punch bag beside it. "I don't want to be... that. I've never told anyone. My parents. My friends. I'd never hear the end of it."

"But Sarah knew?" Booth asked.

"Sarah was round here to see Ella one day. Bout a year ago. She walked into my room while I was reading a magazine... a certain magazine." He raised his eyebrow and Booth understood.

"Oh."

"At first she laughed... but she was a good sort... she agreed not to tell anyone."

"So why do her parents think you are her boyfriend? They met you. Her parents said you came round for dinner."

Rob rolled his eyes.

"I never wanted to do that. It was all Sarah's idea."

He looked at Ella.

"I was so shocked when she told me." Ella agreed. "The old Sarah would never lie to her parents-"

Booth pounced again. "What do you mean the '_old'_ Sarah?" He asked.

Ella looked surprised. "Well, before she had her make-over."

Booth leaned forward in his seat. "Make-over?"

Ella looked even more surprised. "Didn't her parents say?" She shrugged. "About a year ago Sarah had a make-over. She was always a bit... well... shy before... she said she wanted to be more confident for her job."

"The job at Jenningtons?"

"Yeah." Ella nodded. "She said nobody talked to her there and she wanted to fit in. She pursued me to help her."

She looked at Booth.

"I'm a trainee beauty therapist." She explained. "I died her hair for her... did her nails and eyebrows too... got her contact lenses... I let her borrow some of my clothes... we fixed her teeth-"

Booth remembered what Angela had said earlier about Sarah's teeth.

"She had them cleaned?"

"Yeah." Ella nodded. "They were yellow. Sarah was self-conscious about it. She looked tons better after and she... she changed... she became more confident... happier yes... but I've known her since second grade... she started doing things that kind of surprised me."

"Like what?" Booth thought, thinking of the topless photo but Ella was thinking differently.

"Just little things. She cancelled a few girlie outings with me... she was too busy to meet... and then there's what she asked Rob..."

She turned back to Rob so he could finish his story.

"I was surprised she said it." He shrugged.

"What?"

"She asked me if I would come round her house and meet her parents. She asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend for a night."

"Why would she ask that?" Booth frowned.

"It was weird. She said her parents were nagging her because she'd never had a boyfriend. Sarah said she wanted to get them off her back and she said it would be good for me because people would start noticing I didn't date girls..."

"So you agreed." Booth finished.

"Yeah... I came to Sarah's house... her parents were very nice... they asked me lots of questions about myself." Rob looked sheepish. "I told them Sarah and I had been dating for three months. We ate, then I left."

Booth handed Rob the photograph of him and Sarah riding piggy-back.

"Was this taken the same day?" He asked.

Rob nodded. "Sarah's Mom took it out front, just before Sarah drove me home. Sarah told me I was lifesaver. She seemed really grateful."

"So only you three knew about the arrangement? None of you told anyone else?"

Rob looked at Ella. "No we never told anyone. That was the point. No one else knows I'm... not into girls and Sarah said she wanted her Mom to quit nagging her."

Booth looked at Ella. She was frowning, chewing on her lower lip.

"Ella? Did you tell anyone?"

"No!" She protested at once. "I didn't tell anyone."

Booth went to ask something else but Ella muttered. "But I think Sarah sort of did."

Rob looked at Ella in surprise.

"I don't mean she was blabbing it all around to everyone..." She added hastily, in an effort to calm her brother.

"I just think... I told you Sarah had been a bit... well... different lately... maybe it was just the make-over... but sometimes I thought Sarah was hiding something... she'd normally tell me everything you know... but there was this one time she said she couldn't come out because she was looking after her Mom and later I called the house to say hi and her Mom said she was with Rob... but Rob was here with me."

Ella shrugged, uncomfortable. "It's probably nothing... I just get the feeling there was another reason Sarah wanted to lie about Rob and her... she was always such a... a...-"

"Good girl?" Booth finished, thinking about his first impressions of Sarah.

Ella looked embarrassed but she agreed. "Yeah she was always such a good girl... still a great friend though. We had lots of laughs." She looked sad again and Booth was anxious to keep her talking.

"What did you think when she went missing? Did you think she'd ran away?"

Ella nodded. "I was surprised at first. But yes." She said. "When she lost her job she started saying she was going to go travelling. She loved her parents but her Mom's illness wasn't easy on her... I know she felt guilty because of how much her father had spent on her car. I think she just needed to get away. I thought it was a bit odd but I heard the police found a runaway note right?"

Booth nodded.

Rob looked at Ella, frowning.

"Ella...?" His eyebrows were raised and he said it questioningly.

Ella looked at her brother. "What?"

They shared a look before Rob turned to Booth.

"Sarah asked us both for money." He declared.

"What? When?" Booth asked, surprised.

"Not long after she lost her job." Ella admitted, sighing. "About four months ago."

"How much?"

"She didn't say amounts. She just asked if she could borrow as much as possible."

"Did she say why?"

"She said it was to go travelling but... " Ella frowned. "Sarah's parents aren't really poor. I told her to ask them but then I found out she asked Rob after me..."

"Did you give her money?" Booth asked, thinking of the cash in the envelope they had found hidden away in Sarah's bedroom.

Ella and Rob both shook their heads as Ella explained. "We don't have it. I'm at college and do part-time training with my Gran. Rob works in a garden centre. There's no way we could give her money."

There was a pause while Booth jotted this down.

Ella looked at her brother.

She sighed.

"There's something else you should know too." She told Booth.

She turned back to her brother.

"Rob? We'd better show him."

Rob sighed too but he got up and he and Ella asked Booth to follow them.

Booth was surprised when they didn't go to the front door and instead he was led through the kitchen, around the side of the house and to the back of the property, to a garden of long grass.

In the middle of it was a storage building.

"About a week before she went missing Sarah drove round here." Ella said. "It was just me in the house."

As she spoke Rob bent down and pulled up the garage door.

_**A bright red BMW convertible was parked inside.**_

Booth recognised it straight away.

"Sarah's car!" He exclaimed, stunned.

Ella and Rob were both nodding. "Yes. It's hers. She said she wanted to store it here."

"But she told her parents she sold it-?" Booth remarked, puzzled.

"Sarah made me promise not to tell anyone it was here." Ella said.

Then she glanced at Rob and explained. "I didn't tell Rob but he keeps his sports stuff is in here too."

Rob spoke up. "I found the car and Ella explained I couldn't say anything. We thought Sarah had just taken off for a bit. That's why we didn't say anything before."

"This all happened a weak before she went missing?" Booth clarified.

Ella nodded. "Yeah it was lunchtime. She was a bit weird that day... she said everything was fine but I don't know... look."

Ella beckoned Booth inside the garage.

She pointed at a deep scratch across one side of the car.

"Sarah said this was an accident."

Booth knelt down, tracing the scratch with his finger.

It didn't look like an accident.

It looked like the car had been keyed.

"This car cost Mr Jenkins 40,000 dollars." Ella said. "Sarah told me he'd go mad if he saw it. She said he couldn't find out... but she took a photo of the scratch on her mobile phone." She frowned. "I don't understand why she did that."

Rob spoke up. "I told Sarah I could repaint it anyway and her Dad wouldn't have to know but she said she needed to figure some stuff out first and she'd let us know."

"That's why we weren't that surprised when she went missing." Ella put in. "We just thought she was stressed about the car and had run off to avoid dealing with it... I know we should have said something but..."

Ella stopped, rather suddenly, tears swimming in her eyes.

"W-we thought s-she'd come _home_." She stuttered, her voice cracking on the last word.

Her pupils went very wide.

"Oh my god, she's really never coming back!"

The realisation was too much and she sobbed in anguish.


	11. Chapter 10 The Meeting Back At The Lab

_Author's Note._

_A few of you have been asking so I thought I would let you all know I am from Britain so there may be a few British words and sayings in my stories. _

_On the plus side I love American T.V. I watch most of your shows – Desperate Housewives, Medium, Ghost Whisperer, House, Friends - and Bones is a favourite of mine. American T.V rules! _

_Once again, thanks for all the great comments. You seem to be loving this story and proving my theory the plot of 'The Meeting In The Beginning' would have made a great season four finale. Let's all petition Hart Hanson to re shoot! :) _

_This is one of my favourite chapter's so far. As promised lots of B & B chemistry. Happy reading :) _

_**Chapter 10.**_

_**The Meeting Back At The Lab. **_

"They could be lying."

This was Brennan.

Sarah's car had been taken away for examination by an FBI forensic team.

Booth and Brennan were back in the lab.

Brennan was standing over Sarah's remains once more. Her x-rays were on a large screen in front of them.

Booth had just repeated everything he had heard from Ella and Rob to an audience of Brennan and Angela and he wasn't surprised Brennan was the one to come out with this.

"I don't think so." He said, shaking his head at her pessimism.

"Oh come on Booth, who says they're telling the truth? People lie all the time. They could have hid Sarah's car after they murdered her."

"And what's the motive?" Booth asked.

Brennan thought for a moment. "Although I'm against speculating, it's possible Sarah threatened to expose Rob's homosexuality if he didn't give her money. Rob killed her in anger. Ella, having a strong emotional attachment to her brother, helped him cover it up."

Booth rolled his eyes.

"Did you get all that from looking at the bones?" He said, sarcastically.

Brennan frowned. "I'm simply saying you can't trust what people tell you. The answers are in the bones. They don't lie. Ella and Rob could be lying about everything."

"So Ella helped to cover up the murder of her best friend?" Booth shook his head. "No way. They didn't have to show me the car in the first place. You weren't there Bones. Both Ella and Rob seemed really upset that Sarah was the girl we found. I believed them when they said they thought she'd run away."

"Because of damage to her car?" Brennan scoffed. "A scratch is repairable."

"Sarah's mum's ill." Booth replied with shrug. "Maybe Sarah didn't want to hassle them. Anyway she said her father would go mad if he knew about it."

Brennan scoffed again. "So your blaming the father now?" She accused.

"I never said that... but while you mention it he _**does**_ have motive." Booth retorted. "His daughter lied to him twice. About Rob. Then about damaging a very expensive car he brought her. Maybe he found out. Then there's the topless photo. That's lots of motives in my book."

"All of this is from what you've been _**told**_. You have no proof Mr Jenkins knew about any of those things." Brennan countered smugly and Booth knew she was right.

That annoyed him.

"Doesn't mean I won't get the evidence soon." He shot back. "And I bet I get it by talking to _people_. Not from anything about the bones... _**Bones.**_"

Brennan shot him an angry look, seething. "I _**told**_ you don't call me Bones!"

There was a tense silence as they glared at each other.

Angela Montenegro was sitting at a computer a few feet from Sarah's bones and enjoying the banter immensely but she also knew she should distract the duo before one of them said _or did_ something they would regret.

"I'd say there's only one suspect you can positively discount so far." She announced loudly and Booth and Brennan both turned to her.

Angela shot Booth a disapproving look before elaborating.

"Sarah's mother. Maggie Jenkins... her medical records are on here." Angela tapped the computer screen beside her. "She's definitely got M.E. Sarah was short but there's no way Maggie's strong enough to carry her daughter's body to the river's edge and bury her."

Booth couldn't resist.

"I never thought she was a suspect anyway." He said smugly, looking at Brennan.

Brennan never took her eyes off Booth when she replied.

"Angela wouldn't you say a sporty young man who's captain of a football team would be fit enough? Or did you mean Rob does ballet when you said he's into sports Booth?"

Booth went to retort and Angela knew she better stop the battle now before there was a war.

"Right now, I'd say I'd better sidetrack Booth so you can concentrate on the bones, before the theme tune from Mad About You starts playing."

Brennan frowned. "I don't know what that means."

Angela smiled adoringly at her. "I'm not surprised Sweetie. Look at your bones for a minute okay, while I update Booth on his CCTV."

Brennan was frowning but she did as she was told and went back to examining her x-rays.

Meanwhile, Booth got up and walked over to the computer desk Angela was sat at.

Angela elbowed him in the ribs when he got to her.

"Ow!" He moaned, rubbing his side. "What'd you do that for?"

Angela raised an eyebrow at him. "I warned you earlier to play _nice_." She reminded him.

"She started it!" Booth said grumpily, realising he sounded like a kid, he added "The woman has no social skills."

"Which is why _**you**_ should know better." Angela retorted.

Still rubbing his side, Booth thought it best not to argue.

"What did you say about my CCTV?"

Angela shrugged. "I thought I'd take a look. Someone from the FBI said you'd already got the footage from the park so I requested them to email it to me... I hoped you wouldn't mind if I was a bit nosy."

She sent him a sheepish smile. Then turned back to the computer and tapped a few keys on the keyboard.

Footage from the park appeared on the screen.

The camera looked down from high up, capturing in it's frame the entrance to Welding's Park.

The archway embossed with it's name, a portion of the black railings which ran around the outside of the park, a segment of the pavement and a street lap were visible.

"I asked the computer to look for people with Sarah's features." Angela explained. " Blonde, under 5 foot 3 in height and white - between the time we know she left the house – 11.00 PM - and Hodgins's estimated time of death – 12 to 2AM. Luckily there isn't many people around that late at night and walla -"

She clicked the mouse and an image appeared on the screen.

It was the same scene as before but with one noticeable difference.

Sarah Jenkins was walking into Weldings Park on Saturday May 15th, the night she died.

She was wearing the clothes Mrs Jenkins had described – short skirt, black boots and a hot pink low-cut sweater that was the most vivid thing on the grainy image.

The time on the corner of the screen said 11.26 PM.

"This is the only image of her." Angela said. "There's not one of her walking out again."

"So she was meeting someone." Booth said aloud. "Have you got any images of people going into the park after her?"

"I've got various people walking past the doors... " Angela shrugged. "I've got this guy... [_Angela freeze framed an image which showed an elderly man_]... he's the caretaker who closes the park at night." Booth watched him closing the park gates and putting chains on them in slow motion. "Apparently he always closes up at 12 PM... keeps drunk kids out."

"That means our killer must have left before 12pm to get out." Booth said.

"Yes but the strange thing is that no-one goes in or out after Sarah." Angela said and Booth frowned.

"There is however, this..."

Angela rewound back the park footage to a time of 10.53pm on the screen.

"This guy goes in half an hour _**before **_Sarah." Angela said, tapping the screen with her fingernail.

Booth leaned in for a closer look.

A figure was walking into the park gates.

The picture quality was poor though.

Booth could make out someone wearing a black mac with the hood pulled up. He couldn't tell if it was a male or female.

"I can't tell much from this." He said in frustration.

Angela pressed a few buttons and the image on the screen began to get bigger, bit by bit.

It got to a certain point and the image went fuzzy. Booth frowned in annoyance.

"That's worse."

Angela sighed and clicked the mouse back a frame. "This is as far as I can enlarge the image before we lose the pixels altogether." She said.

"It's still not good enough to get details."

Angela nodded. "I know but it's all I've got at the moment."

She clicked a few more buttons and the frame began to move to the left, bit by bit.

"I think an idea might be to focus on this." She pointed at the ground, at the shadow cast by the figure.

"I'm going to try and get the computer to work out the height of the person from the shadow in this street lap. I could also try and enhance this bit-"

Angela tapped her finger against one bit of the shadow – a tiny portion of it was an odd shape, something thin and slightly curved.

"There appears to be an object here. It appears as though this guy is holding something. Maybe I can get the computer to have a guess at what."

She turned to him.

"I'm sure if anyone can do it, it'll be you Angela." Booth grinned at her.

Angela smiled at him. "If you said more things like that to Brennan we might be able to negotiate peace talks."

Booth laughed.

"What are you two laughing at?" Brennan called, frowning at them.

Booth looked at Angela, smiling. "We were discussing the need for peace talks in Timbuktu."

"Are they at war?" Brennan asked, completely seriously.

"It was a joke Bones." Booth said, grinning.

"It's not time for jokes." Brennan said, in a tone of disapproval. "I've got cause of death."

Booth got up and Angela followed him over to where Brennan was examining the bones.

"I thought you said she'd been beaten up." Booth objected.

"She has been." Brennan nodded, she pointed with her finger to the x-rays she had displayed on screen in front of them. "Seven of her ribs are fractured. She was punched seven times in the chest _here... here... here...here... here... here_ and _here_. The angles of the blows suggest a strong, right - handed attacker."

"Like most of the population." Booth put in unhelpfully and Brennan scowled at him.

"She was _**also**_ kicked four times in the legs. Three times in her right, once on her left. All of the damage is to the backs of the legs so it does look as though she was kicked as she tried to escape her attacker. She also defended herself. There are defensive wounds to the metacarpal bones of her wrist and arms... _here_... _and here_ where she tried to defend herself against the blows."

"So she _**was **_beaten to death." Booth interrupted.

Brennan shook her head. "No. She would have been hurt... these blows are vicious but these little shards here... [_she pointed at the tiny bones fragments on the screen_] are from her fourth rib."

She turned back to Booth.

"This rib is _shattered_ into pieces, not just fractured. It takes a great deal of force to do that."

Booth raised an eyebrow. "So what does that tell us?"

"It's a stab wound." Brennan admitted.

Booth pounced. "Earlier you said-"

"I know what I said." Brennan cut him off, tartly. "I didn't have the x-rays then."

She turned back to the screen and continued. ""It's not a knife wound. I think she was stabbed with something else. To actually shatter one of her ribs as it went in, it must have been brutal."

She pointed at the shards on the x-ray. "As she was stabbed the weapon shattered Sarah's rib and punctured her left lung. Her lung filled up with air and blood. This, as well as the multiple fractures she'd already suffered on her other ribs, put too much pressure on the right lung and her heart and she couldn't breathe."

Brennan looked at Booth.

"Sarah Jenkins suffocated. It would have taken about a minute to kill her. She would have spluttered and fought for breathe. She would have felt terrible pain. She knew she was about to die."

"Yes okay Bones... I get the picture." Booth said gravely.

He looked down sadly at the bones on the table.

Angela's thoughts were along the same sad line.

"She was only 19." Angela said aloud. "Why would anyone want to hurt her?"

She said it to herself really but Brennan spoke up.

"We already know Sarah had an enemy."

Booth sighed. "Yeah... and we know she'd changed over the last year and she been lying to her parents lately and she'd made some 'silly mistakes'." He used air quotes. "But who'd be so angry about a bunch of 'silly mistakes' to punch and kick a 19-year-old girl and stab her so she suffocated in her own blood?"

No one was meant to answer but Brennan did again.

"Anger is irrational." She said, flatly.

"So is murder." Booth told her, fiercely. "People aren't rational. Most people don't think like you."

"Maybe the world would be a better place if they did." Angela said suddenly and she smiled at Brennan.

Brennan sent her a grateful smile back.

They were all distracted by the sound of the door swinging open and Hodgins walked in.

"Your gonna love me." He announced. He was smiling broadly and did not notice the atmosphere.

He saw Booth and said simply, "I'm Hodgins. You're that angry cop from earlier."

"And your the bug guy." Booth retorted back.

"Bug _**and slime**_ guy." Hodgins corrected. "And I'm guessing your still angry!"

He stepped over to the group and added "It's a good thing I have something that may cheer you up."

He pulled out a small vial from his pocket and handed it to Brennan.

"Your gonna love me." He repeated. "Check it out."

Brennan held the vial up to the light.

"It's a hair." She said.

"Sure is. This is a hair I took from the remains at the crime scene."

He continued talking as he set up a microscope on a neighbouring table.

"It looks like it's our victims own natural hair- it's the same dirty yellow colour..."

He took the vial from Brennan and opening the top he placed the hair on a slide and put it under the microscope.

"I thought I'd have a look just in case we got lucky and it wasn't one of the victims hairs and on closer inspection..."

He waved his arm to indicate they could look.

Brennan bent down and looked into the microscope.

"What am I looking at?" She asked.

"Your looking at a hair from a _cansis lupus familiaris._" Hodgins said triumphantly.

"Which is what, a big-foot?" Booth put in.

He was frustrated he didn't understand what was going on.

Hodgins rolled his eyes. "It's a dog hair." He told Booth.

"A dog?" Booth repeated, stepping forward.

"Yes... a labrador to be exact."

"Sarah Jenkins doesn't own a dog." Booth said aloud.

Hodgins, Angela and Brennan looked at him, smiling.

"Exactly." They said in unison.

"But it's a park-" Booth objected. "There's got to be thousands of dogs... the journalist who found the body was walking her dog-"

Hodgins shook his head. "That was a poodle, different hair structure. _This hair _was absorbed into Sarah's lung and tissue as she decomposed. I found it in the indentation of her shattered rib. If it wasn't on the murderer, then it was on the murder weapon." He finished with a flourish and bowed.

"It's just a shame lots of people own labradors." A dull voice said.

Everyone looked up.

Zach Addy was standing in the doorway.

As everyone looked at him, Zach shifted, uncomfortable with their attention.

"I mean, logically speaking, it's not evidence that would hold up in court unless you can match it's DNA to the actual dog and even then it would only prove the murderer's dog was at the scene, not the murderer."

There was silence while everyone looked at Hodgins.

"It's still a clue." He said in his own defence.

He looked at Zach and grumbled. "Nice way to rain on my parade Zachy boy."

"I didn't come in to rain on your parade." Zach replied, flatly. "I came to tell Dr Brennan she has a visitor."

All eyes turned to Brennan as Zach added:

"Mr Jenkins is waiting in your office."


	12. Chapter 11 The Meeting In The Office

_**Chapter 12.**_

_**The Meeting In The Office. **_

As Brennan made her way down the hall to her office to see Mr Jenkins, Booth followed behind her and struggled to talk her out of it.

"Bones I really think _**I**_ should talk to Mr Jenkins_**. Alone.**_" He pressed, as he hurried to keep up with her.

"Don't call me Bones..." Brennan told him testily.

"Look Brennan-"

Brennan stopped walking abruptly and cut him off.

"_**Look **_Booth. Mr Jenkins asked to see _**me.**_ Not you."

Booth shook his head.

"I really think Mr Jenkins meant to talk to me-"

"He's in _**my **_office." She declared pointedly. "I want to hear what he has to say."

She started walking again.

"I'll come and find you in the lab afterwards and tell you." Booth offered.

"But I won't be in the lab." Brennan replied curtly.

"But you should be working on the bones-"

"I told you cause of death." Brennan retorted. "When I've finished talking to Mr Jenkins I'll go back and reassemble Sarah's fourth rib but Mr Jenkins is in my office right now and I won't keep him waiting."

"Listen Brennan I'm sure Mr Jenkins would rather talk to me. I am, after all, in charge of the case... I'm the one with the cop's badge."

"And I'm the one with the doctorate." Brennan said bluntly.

She turned to Booth, a slight smile on her face. "Perhaps Mr Jenkins forgot your name."

She couldn't resist. "People do tend to remember Doctors."

"They remember FBI agents!" Booth spluttered. "I gave him my card!"

"Then he would have called you." Brennan said bluntly.

She looked at Booth. "But he _**didn't**_ call you and since Mr Jenkins is sitting in _**my**_ office and _**it is**_ my office..." She trailed off, smiling, and started walking again.

Booth opened his mouth to say something, got the point she was making and closed it again, thoroughly annoyed.

He followed Brennan into her office.

Mr Jenkins was sitting at Brennan's desk. He rose when he saw Brennan and Booth enter.

"Mr Jenkins," Brennan accepted his hand. "What can I do for you?"

Brennan sat down in her chair opposite Mr Jenkins and Booth was forced to stand.

"I hope you don't mind me coming here." Mr Jenkins said. "I couldn't talk freely in front of Maggie earlier but I thought you should know this as soon as possible. Maggie asked where I was going and I had to tell her I wasn't going to the police station."

Booth and Brennan looked puzzled and seeing their faces Mr Jenkins quickly explained.

"I'm a Catholic. I couldn't lie to my wife. I thought if I came _**here**_ and saw _**you**_ Dr Brennan it wouldn't be a lie would it?" He sighed.

Booth understood.

"Your not at the police station." He agreed, in an attempt to placate Mr Jenkins. "It's not a lie."

Mr Jenkins nodded at him gratefully.

"So you wanted to talk to _**me**_ though?" Booth said loudly, he looked pointedly at Brennan, who sent him a scathing look back.

"Well yes..." Mr Jenkins nodded. "At least I hoped you would be here. Maggie took your card and it's not something I could tell you over the phone. I wanted to talk to you in private."

"We're listening Mr Jenkins." Booth said. "What is it?"

There was a long moment's silence where Mr Jenkins struggled to know where to begin.

"Maggie and I... we've been married for 20 years now. From that day to this I have tried never to lie to my wife... but Sarah made that promise... difficult..." He sighed loudly. "Where to start... where to start?"

He leaned forward in his seat, addressing Booth, rather than Brennan.

"You should understand... a year ago I had everything I could ever want... my business was doing well. I had a loving wife and a perfect daughter who had just been accepted to one of the best colleges in the country. Life was great for us."

"It all changed after I brought Sarah that dam car." He scowled. "We've never been extravagant before... but Sarah wanted a car for her birthday. It was her 18th. She'd always worked so hard. She always got the best grades. So I thought why not? She was such a good girl and she deserved it. So I splashed out. Just this one time. I paid $40,000 for that car and four days after I brought it Maggie..."

He trailed off, his eyes meeting Booth's.

"Got sick?" Booth guessed gently.

"Yes..."

He looked relieved that he didn't have to say it aloud.

"She'd been having these dizzy spells for a little while but we thought it was middle age. PMT or something... but the doctor confirmed she had..."

"M.E." Brennan said for him.

He looked at her and nodded sadly.

"I promised her in sickness and in health. I'd promised to look after her. I didn't have a choice really. My friend had been offering to buy my company for years. I finally gave in. He brought me out."

His shoulders slumped.

"Sarah was really upset about it. Even more than I was. She knew how long it had taken me to build up my company from nothing. She told me she wanted to defer college for a year so she could get a job and pay her own fees..."

He looked Booth in the eye.

"I know she felt guilty. About the car, about her mother's illness, about college costs."

He shook his head.

"I told her it was okay but she said she wanted to pay her own way. She said it would be good for her to have some work experience too. Sarah wanted to be a editor. She said working at Jennington Publishers would give her experience. She asked me if I could put in a good word for her with Steve."

"Steve?"

"Steven Jennington. My best friend." He laughed bitterly. "He gave her a job... and it was a huge mistake..."

Booth and Brennan didn't interrupt, waiting for him to continue.

"She did all these _**things**_ –" He waved his hand in frustration. "To her hair. To her teeth. To her clothes. _**For him.**_ "

He sighed again and said quietly, sounding embarrassed. "She developed a crush on him... Steve."

He spoke harshly, his anger suddenly flaring. "He's forty years old for heaven's sake! He's married! I only found out after she brought that boy round. The _**decoy**_."

"Robert Jones?" Booth said.

"Yes. He was nice enough. I was pleased she'd found a nice guy. But then little things started happening with Steve. If I called him he would say that he couldn't talk. He stopped meeting up with me. He made excuses for not coming fishing. Or golf. Or whatever." He waved his hand.

"Then Sarah came home one day and she had this pen with her name on it."

Brennan remembered the pen on the desk in Sarah's bedroom earlier.

Mr Jenkins sighed. "She said it was a gift from Rob but I knew she was lying. Steve brought one for his wife Helen when they started dating. I started wondering..."

"Did you go to Sarah?" Brennan asked.

Mr Jenkins shook his head vehemently. "God no. I went to Steve. I spoke with him. I asked him straight out if he was seeing Sarah."

"What did he say?" Booth asked.

Mr Jenkins sounded bitter again. "He denied there was anything going on..._**at first.**_ He said the pen was just a gift. It was all innocent."

He looked at Booth. "I knew he was lying. I told him so and he admitted they'd been seeing each other. He said he'd gotten carried away because she looked so different and he didn't know what he'd been thinking of and he was sorry."

"Did you believe him?" This was Brennan.

"I wanted too." Mr Jenkins told her. "I told him to end it. I didn't want her working with him any more either."

"So that's why she left the company?" Brennan asked.

"Yes. He told me he'd been gentle about it. He'd told her he was sorry and he'd realised he was too old for her and they had to end it. He asked her to get another job."

"How did Sarah take it?" Booth asked, seriously.

"She came home and told her mother and I she had quit. I was worried about her of course. I wanted to talk to her about it. I even thought about telling her I knew about Steve but then she told me herself she was fine. She said she was going to take a break for a while. Go travelling. She said she'd go to college after. She said she had a plan. She was okay about the job. I believed her."

"So she didn't seem that upset about losing Steve?"

Mr Jenkins looked like he was about to say something when he paused. He took a breathe.

"A few days before Sarah went missing I went into her bedroom. She kept taking my gardening magazines and I wanted one back. I went to her magazine pile and I... I found a note amongst all the magazines... I read it."

He sighed and looked up at Booth & Brennan. "You read the note earlier."

Realisation dawned on them both and they said together.

"Sarah's runaway note?"

Mr Jenkins nodded, looking sheepish. "I'm the one who put it in the bin. I spoke to Sarah about it when she came home and she said she was sorry. She told me she wrote it months ago and mislaid it. She said it was about Rob. She said she'd found out he was gay and was so humiliated she had thought about running away..."

Mr Jenkins looked very uncomfortable.

"I knew she was lying of course... I already knew Rob was a decoy... but I didn't say anything. I put the note in the bin. Then I called Steve and asked him if he was still seeing Sarah. He denied it. He promised me he'd come to his senses. So I thought Sarah must have written the note months ago when she and Steve were, you know, still _**seeing each other.**_ She'd mislaid it just like she said. I wanted to believe her I guess."

He sighed, a tear spilling down my cheek.

"I really hate how Sarah lied to me. As her father it pained me greatly. I think she was ashamed about the affair though. When she went missing I thought she really had run away because of Steve. I thought she'd come back when she'd had time to lick her wounds."

The pain on his face was clear to see.

"When it said on the News... Maggie was sure... but I... I just didn't want to believe it. Right until you came to my door."

He shook his head as if to clear it and said firmly.

"I've known Steve for 20 years. We met at a book convention. Maggie and I have gone to dinner with him and his wife. We've even holidayed together. I totally trusted him. Then I find he's been - _**encouraging**_ my daughter. Now my daughter is dead. I don't know what I'm saying. It's probably nothing... but I need to know. I need to know for sure if Steve... if he... if Steve knows anything about – what happened to Sarah."

He took a deep breathe and looked Booth in the eye, looking fearful.

"I need to know for sure whether I made another mistake by trusting him."


	13. Chapter 12 Meeting An Agreement

_**Chapter 13.**_

_**Meeting An Agreement.**_

"Just because this Steve guy was seeing Sarah, it doesn't mean he's responsible for her death."

Brennan commented as they watched Mr Jenkins leaving the Jeffersonian from it's doors, having seen him out.

Booth sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm aware of that Bones... but you have to admit this guy makes a pretty good suspect."

Brennan shrugged. "Just because he was having an affair with her? Lots of people have affairs."

"Yes that's true but what kind of guy goes out with a girl that young? Especially his _**best friend's daughter?**_" Booth looked disgusted. "The guy sounds like a jerk to me."

"So you automatically think he had something to do with Sarah's death?"

"You bet I do." Booth said gravely, looking at her. "In fact, I think we need to find out just _**who**_ exactly called Sarah that night because my bet says it was Steve Jennington _**and**_ I bet he's got no alibi."

He pulled out his cellphone.

"We need Sarah's mobile phone records."

"Maggie could have lied about the phone call." Brennan said thoughtfully, leaning against the door frame as Mr Jenkins drove away into the distance.

"Why would she do that?" Booth asked as he dialled. "She has no reason to."

"That we know of." Brennan said darkly. "_Yet._"

She emphasised the last word.

Booth did not miss the criticism but just then someone picked up on the other line and he turned away from her, to make arrangements to get the information he needed.

When he hung up, he saw Brennan had not returned to her lab but was still standing there, waiting for him.

"So who's car are we taking?" She asked him.

Booth folded his arms across his chest.

"To go where?" He replied, deciding to play dumb because he knew exactly what was coming next.

Brennan shrugged.

"We're going to interview Steve Jennington now right?" She said, stating the obvious because she did not understand what he was getting at.

Booth grinned.

"Actually your wrong. _**I'm**_ going to go interview Steve Jennington." He declared.

Then he was gone.

The door swung closed as Booth left the Jeffersonian.

Brennan was momentarily stunned, but she caught the door on the swing, following him out.

"So we're back to that are we?" She muttered roughly, as she caught up to him. "Why can't I come?"

Booth didn't look at her as he walked over to his car.

"Because your the scientist, not the cop." His voice was firm.

Brennan frowned.

"Look Booth, after what Mr Jenkins just said about him I'm interested to hear what Steve has to say. Humour me."

"I thought you wanted to reassemble Sarah's fourth rib?" He asked innocently, looking at her over the hood of his car.

Brennan nodded. "I will do... _**after **_we talk to Steve."

Booth fished for his car keys in his pocket.

"You don't want to talk to this guy. He's going to be a jerk, I can tell."

He put the key in the car door.

"The guy's not a jerk just because he had an affair." Brennan couldn't stop herself saying it.

She knew it wouldn't help her plight but she always had to say what was on her mind.

Booth frowned and looked at her pointedly. "I doubt his wife would agree."

"It's perfectly natural for human beings to have multiple sexual partners. There's nothing wrong with it." Brennan declared.

This made Booth freeze, staring at her.

"Are you telling me you think it's okay to cheat on someone your supposed to love?" He asked in amazement.

"I'm saying love's got nothing to do with it." Brennan folded her arms. "Variety is essential for procreation. All species do it to survive and expand genes."

Booth stared at her.

"What about species that mate for life? Like swans?" Booth argued. "What about them?"

"Even a swan will find a new mate if one of the pair dies. The need to procreate is too strong." Brennan declared. "Generally it's the male of the species that will have as many sexual partners as possible in order to better his chances-"

"-At having his cake and eating it." Booth finished heatedly. "I can't _believe_ I'm having this conversation with you."

He opened his car door and slipped into the drivers seat.

"To think Angela actually said you were loyal." Booth told to her hotly. "I'm leaving now and your not coming with me."

Booth went to close the door but Brennan put her hand on it and stopped him.

"I let you sit in on that interview just now." She said calmly.

Booth was quick at protesting. "But Mr Jenkins said-"

Brennan predicted what he was going to say and interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter who Mr Jenkins wanted to see. I let you stay in _**my**_ office. I didn't have to let you come in. You wouldn't know any of this. I could have just went to see Steve myself and you wouldn't have known. I allowed you that. I think letting me come along now might make us even."

Booth sighed.

She was the most stubborn person in the world.

"I let you come with me into Sarah's house earlier." He retorted.

"Where I found the money _and the topless photo._ " Brennan successfully argued. "Who's to say you would have found it without me being there?"

Booth was quiet, thinking.

She had a point. A small one but a point.

Brennan could see by his expression he was thinking hard and decided to help him along.

"I'll let you drive. I'll come in your car. As soon as we're done I'll come straight back here and reassemble Sarah's rib." She promised. "I'll work through the night if I have too."

Booth looked at Brennan.

"Brennan if I let you do this..." He said seriously "and I mean _**if**_... you can't say a word."

"But-"

"I mean it Bones! Not one word. You let me do all the talking."

He looked at her and decided to be straight with her.

"You might not think so but Steve Jennington _**is**_ a suspect. At this moment I have nothing on him. He doesn't have to talk to me at all. If I blow this... if _**we**_ blow this... and he did kill Sarah... he'll walk. Do you understand that?"

He looked her in the eye.

"If anyone says the wrong thing, it's my head on the chopping block and Sarah's blood on my hands. If this guy killed Sarah I want him where he belongs. So I do all the talking, got it? You can't say one thing. Can you promise me that?"

Brennan hesitated, but seeing the serious look in his eyes, she nodded slowly.

"All right Booth. If you let me come, you can do all the talking."

"Promise me." Booth said firmly.

Brennan looked at him, a bit startled, but she complied.

"I promise. I won't say a word."

Booth stared at her for a long moment and Brennan didn't look away.

Booth sighed.

Against his better judgement, he nodded his assent.

Brennan went round to the passenger side of the car and got in.

Booth watched her grinning triumphantly the entire time and suddenly had a very bad feeling.

How would she keep her promise?


	14. Chapter 13 The Meeting With The Jerk

_Author's Note._

_Hi everyone. Thanks for all your reviews. The next chapter's a long one but I'm rather proud of it. Stick with it as it's worth it in the end. Let me know what you think. _

_Happy reading :)_

_**Chapter 13. **_

_**The Meeting With The Jerk.**_

Booth made a phone call and discovered that Steve Jennington was working in his office at his company, not very far away.

He did not make an appointment, believing it best to surprise his new prime suspect with their visit.

When they arrived at the publishers, Brennan saw it was one of many buildings situated on a large industrial estate. It was a flat topped, large structure and the sign JENNINGTONS ran one from end of the building to the other.

She and Booth got out and made their way to the entrance.

There wasn't many cars in the car park and, sure enough, when they entered the building, they were met with the sight of many empty desks. It looked like most of the workforce had gone home for the day _if _they worked on a Saturday at all.

The only person they could see was a blonde girl, who was sitting at the desk nearest to the door. She was pretty, with a heart-shaped face and bright red lips. Despite her hair being pulled back in a sophisticated updo, she looked young. Brennan thought she was probably the same age as Sarah. Her name tag read:

_Adele. _

_Receptionist._

Sitting on her desk was a familiar object – a bumble-bee shaped stapler, inscribed with the phrase 'GOOD WORKER.'

Brennan was looking at it when Adele looked up from the papers she was reading and smiled at them.

"Hello. Welcome to Jenningtons. What can I do for you?" Her voice sounded young too.

"We're here to see Mr Jennington." Booth answered her. "Steve Jennington."

"Mr Jennnington is working in his office." Adele said. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No." Booth shook his head. "Not exactly-"

"Well I'm afraid you must have-"

Booth smiled at her and interrupted.

"I'm sure Mr Jennington wouldn't mind if _**you**_ asked him. Couldn't _**you**_ could get him to speak with us?"

Adele looked at Booth, frowning.

He looked straight back at her. His eyes were warm and honest.

Adele face's broke into a smile.

She picked up her phone and pressed a button on her intercom.

Meanwhile, Booth looked at Brennan and sent her a satisfied smile.

Brennan sent him a scathing look back, as she knew she wasn't supposed to speak.

"Mr Jennington there are some people here to see you... no they don't have an appointment... yes I told them that... yes Mr Jennington..." Adele giggled. "Steve... of course... your welcome."

She put the phone down, still smiling.

"He says he'll be out in a minute."

Booth looked at Brennan and warned her quietly. "Remember what you promised _Bones_. Not a word."

"Don't call me-"

Before she could finish, a man appeared from his office over the other side of the room and she shut her mouth quickly.

He strode toward them confidently, his hand outstretched.

"I'm Steven Jennington. You wanted to speak to me?"

Steve was a good - looking man.

He looked younger than forty, in a crisp, expensive - looking black suit. His thick black hair was swept backwards and his skin was deeply tanned. He had dark brown eyes and a large smile which he flashed when he saw them.

As soon as Booth saw him, Booth disliked him... the guy had 'jerk' written all over him... but he accepted Steve's outstretched hand.

"My name is Booth. Seeley Booth. I'm with the FBI."

Steve looked momentarily taken aback.

"FBI?" He exclaimed.

"Yes." Booth indicated Bones standing next to him. "This is my... _assistant_ Temperance Brennan."

Booth sent Brennan a cheeky grin, knowing she couldn't correct him.

Steve's eyes fell on Brennan and his surprise transformed instantly to a dazzling smile.

"Hello Temperance my dear. It's wonderful to meet _you_." He said. He took her hand in his, brought it up to his lips and kissed it.

"Such a beautiful lady." Steve said, looking into her eyes.

Brennan smiled tightly at him, then sent Booth a murderous look that Steve didn't notice.

She kept her promise though and said nothing as she took her hand away.

Steve missed the look she gave Booth, as his eyes were now looking over her shoulder.

At Adele and her hurt expression.

"Adele, my angel, why don't you finish now?" His smile was broad and his voice was as sickly sweet as syrup. "I have to talk to these nice people and you've worked sooooo hard today. Why don't you head off and I'll make sure you get a nice bonus in your pay this week?"

Adele instantly cheered up, smiling shyly.

"Oh thank you Mr Jennington-"

"Steve." He corrected her, flashing a megawatt smile.

"Steve." Adele looked shy. "I'm nearly done anyway. Just another half-an-hour and I'll pack up."

Steve turned his smile up another couple of watts [if that were possible.]

"You're an angel. What would I do without you?" He simpered.

Adele never stopped smiling.

Steve turned to Brennan and Booth and trained _his_ smile on them.

"Would you like to come into my office? I can't think what you want to talk to me about."

_'I bet you can't._' Booth thought bitterly.

Brennan eyes were on Adele. Her cheeks were tinged with red. Her face flushed.

She looked like a schoolgirl with a crush.

They followed Mr Jennington into his office and he closed the door.

This room was as big as the one they had just been in, but there was only _**one**_ desk in here.

It smelled very strongly of Mr Jenningtons spicy cologne, a bottle of which was sitting on his desk. Beside it was a computer, a telephone, an ashtray and an opened box of cigars.

Steve went to the leather chair behind his desk and sat down. He was silhouetted in front of a single, floor -to- ceiling window.

"Would you like to hang up your jacket?" He asked Booth, indicating the hat stand near the door that held a single black coat and an umbrella.

Booth shook his head and he and Brennan sat down in the two seats opposite him.

Steve looked very calm.

Booth hated that.

"We're here to talk to you about Sarah Jenkins." He announced suddenly.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting but the reaction he got was next to nothing.

"Who...?"

He must of remembered because he shook himself and smiled, looking vaguely amused. "Oh Sarah... yes of course."

He frowned slightly.

"Did Richard put you up to this?"

He didn't let Booth answer.

"Look whatever he's said, I've done nothing wrong. Sarah's a big girl. She can take care of herself. He shouldn't have involved the FBI over nothing."

Steve's casual tone and attitude infuriated the duo.

Brennan could only smile tightly as Booth answered.

"Actually Mr Jennington... it's not nothing. Sarah's body was found in Welding's Park today."

Steve's eyes widened.

"What? In the park...?"

Booth nodded. "Yes. Don't you watch the News?"

Steve shook his head. "Your sure it's her?" He looked puzzled.

"Yes." Booth said, waiting for him to say more.

Steve sighed.

"Well I can see why your here. I suppose Richard told you everything then?"

"I'm interested to hear your side of the story Mr Jennington." Booth said, not wanting to give anything anyway.

Steve looked annoyed, no longer all smiles.

"Really I have nothing to say." He said flatly, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry the girl is dead of course but that's got nothing to do with me. I don't blame Richard for pointing you my way, but I shouldn't have to explain myself. I can't help the actions of other people. I'm sorry she killed herself over it but-"

"Killed herself?" Booth asked surprised, leaning forward in his seat.

Steve stopped.

"Well... yes." Steve raised his eyebrows. "She did, didn't she?"

"Why would you think that Mr Jenington?" Booth said smoothly.

"Well the affair." Steve said it like it was obvious. "She ran away because I wouldn't leave my wife. I just assumed-"

Booth hated his cocky attitude.

"Actually Mr Jennington, Sarah was murdered."

There was a few seconds of silence.

"Ohhh well... hmmm right... well I'm sorry about that." Steve looked surprised. "Shame really. But you can't think I had anything to do with it...?"

Steve looked first at Booth, then at Brennan.

When they didn't say anything, looking at him in silence, he was outraged.

"Now hang on a minute! You can't just go around accusing people-"

"I'm not accusing you of anything Mr Jennington." Booth said calmly. "I just came to have a chat."

"And what if _**I **_don't want to have a chat?" Steve retorted.

Then he sighed.

"Look Booth wasn't it?... You know how it is. Your a good-looking guy. I get women flinging themselves at me all the time."

He glanced briefly at Brennan but when she didn't verbally react he looked back at Booth.

"I can't help it can I? Sarah was a good kid. Lot's of fun but it was nothing more than that. I can't help it if she gets upset and runs off and finds herself in hot water."

He was looking at Booth and asking him to understand.

Booth immediately saw there were _**two**_ Steve Jenningtons.

The Charming Mr Smooth and The Jerk.

He immediately saw a way to get both sides of Steve to open up.

He smiled at the guy, slouched down in his seat _and agreed with him._

"Yeah Steve. I get it. Sometimes girls like that... they just don't get what guys want right?"

Brennan looked at him in outrage, letting out a squeak of protest.

Booth looked at her, grinning and turned back to Steve.

"See? _Women_." He rolled his eyes at the guy.

Steve laughed, visibly relaxing. "Yeah I swear most of them expect a marriage proposal after one kiss."

Booth laughed along with him and immediately saw a chance to lead the conversation.

"Yeah man that's true but it's not so bad if the girl's hot. Sarah was a real beauty..." He remarked casually.

Brennan looked at Booth and realised he was acting with the guy. Or at least she hoped he was.

"Oh yes..." Steve was nodding in agreement. "She was gorgeous... _really_ fit... it wasn't always like that... but once she sorted herself out... well what man wouldn't notice her? I love my wife but... [he shrugged] I'm only human."

Booth laughed, encouraging him.

"I expect _**she**_ came on to you."

"Of course." Steve was quick to agree. "I didn't say no. It's not as if I promised her the stars or anything... the trick is just to make them _**think**_ you have." He laughed.

Booth smiled but he was really hating this guy.

"So level with me." Booth said, leaning in like a co-conspirator. "What happened with Sarah?"

Steve made a face but he continued to talk.

"Well... I'd never really thought about her like that, _you know_. She _**is **_Richard's daughter. She was always quiet. Bit mousy. Not my type at all."

He looked at Booth. "Then she turns up for work one day and _wow_... and I thought why not?"

Booth laughed along with him.

"How do you get away with it?" Booth asked, as if they were comparing tricks. "What if your wife finds out?"

Steve smiled evilly.

"They'd never tell her. They adore me. I've very good with women. I train them."

He glanced in Brennan's direction and smiled smugly at Booth. "I see your _**very**_ good with this one. She knows her place." He laughed, referring to Brennan's continued silence.

It took every bit of Brennan's self control to not do anything.

The same went for Booth.

"How did you train Sarah?" He asked tightly.

"Oh the usual." Steve reeled off a list. "Your beautiful. Your gorgeous. You understand me. Gifts help too."

"Expensive stuff?" Booth couldn't see Steve spending a fortune on his conquests.

Steve shook his head. "No... just as long as it's something that makes her feel _**special**_."

The last word was sarcastic.

Brennan suddenly remembered the bumble bee-shaped stapler she seen in Sarah's bedroom, inscribed with 'GOOD WORKER' and the one sitting on Adele's desk right now and she felt a surge of anger.

Steve didn't notice. He was too busy boasting.

"I brought Sarah a few trashy things. She was happy anyway. One of my personal favourites is a pen with her name on it. It's one of my specialities. Not overly sexual or expensive but something they'd see as _**meaningful.**_ " He laughed, pleased with his own cleverness.

Brennan remembered Sarah's pen too and her fists clenched in her lap.

"Seems like you had a good thing going." Booth said casually, wanting to keep him talking.

"Yeah it was." Steve agreed. "She was good for a while. I'm always ready to give them up of course. The longer it goes on for, the more involved they get. After I gave her the pen... I knew the end was coming."

"What do you mean?" Booth frowned.

"Oh... Sarah told her father a bunch of lies about some boy or another..." Steve said matter-of-factly. "A friend... she made out like they were dating to cover for us. Then I gave her the pen. I _forgot_ that Richard was there when I gave my wife one. He pulled me up on it."

He looked embarrassed and Booth continued his act, he grimaced in sympathy. "Oops. So you lied right?"

"Yeah at first... but there wasn't really much point. Richard already knew. He's my best friend. I knew he'd never tell Helen so I admitted it. He was mad of course but I said I was sorry and made out I lost my head a bit... you know..."

He sighed. "It would have been hassle after that. Seeing her. So I broke it off."

"I bet Sarah was mad when you told her." Booth commented.

Steve laughed. "She was well trained. I told her my wife was getting suspicious and I couldn't leave her because she'd take me for everything. I told her I was heartbroken of course. As I said Sarah was trained."

He laughed again.

"Did you love her?" Booth asked, knowing the answer.

Steve made a face.

"Love's a strong word. She was cute. Not wife material. I love my wife. Why would I want to leave the women who cooks my meals and cleans my clothes?" Steve laughed. "Helen's a good wife. She's just not as adventurous as I would like. I have to seek adventure elsewhere."

He looked at Brennan and smiled widely at her.

Brennan felt her anger boiling.

"Sarah was great for it." Steve continued, not noticing. "The only trouble was the fact she was a virgin before me. I hadn't known that of course. She got more attached then I would have liked. She left the job but she called me all the time. I met her once or twice."

He looked at Booth and added cheekily. "I mean she _**was **_offering _it._"

"She still wanted to be with you?" Booth asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"They always do." Steve laughed again. "I'm hard to resist... but I had Richard breathing down my neck didn't I? He came straight here when she went missing. Accusing me of all sorts. I had trouble calming him down."

"What did he say?"

"Oh he seemed to think she'd run away because I'd rejected her."

"What did you think?"

"I thought he was probably right. She was young. All girls have to learn hard lessons sometimes."

"So when was the last time you saw her?" Booth asked.

Richard thought. "Bout four weeks ago. The 15th I think."

The day she disappeared.

"At night?" Booth pounced, thinking about the phone call Sarah had received but Steve was shaking his head.

"Jut after midday. She came here. I wasn't happy bout that of course." Steve was shaking his head.

"Did you refuse to talk to her?"

Steve shook his head again. "She told me she had something important to tell me. I was dam scared I can tell you." He said breathlessly. "I thought she was going to say she was pregnant!"

Booth looked shocked and was about to ask but Steve grinned.

"She _wasn't_ thank God. She laughed when I asked her if she was. I took her to the woods in my car. She started rambling about some plan or something. She said she had some money and we could run away together."

Steve looked at Booth.

"She had $40,000. As if I'd leave everything for a measly $40,000!" He scoffed, laughing like it was all one big joke. "Still she wasn't to know that. Bless her."

Brennan face was getting redder and redder and Booth sent her a warning glance.

"Did she say where she'd got it?" Booth asked, turning back to Steve.

"No... well I wasn't really paying attention to be honest. She was wearing high heels. I love a women in high heels..."

He glanced at Brennan and grinned wickedly.

Brennan dug her fingernails into her chair.

"Did you have sex with her?" Booth asked.

"Of course." Steve said, like he was offended. "She started asking when I was going to tell my wife and I just wanted to shut her up. I found kissing her a pretty good way of achieving that."

He expected Booth to laugh but he didn't. Booth was struggling to keep up his act, his own temper rising.

"So you had sex and then what? When was the last time you saw her?" He demanded.

Steve looked a bit shocked at the change in his tone. "I dropped her back into town after and went to my office. Did a bit of paperwork and went home to Helen. I was in bed by 11 with her."

"No phone calls? No more meetings?"

Steve shook his head. "No. That's it."

"Did you ever actually _tell_ Sarah you weren't going to leave your wife?"

"Yes..." Steve stopped. "Well... no... maybe I didn't actually _say_ it... but she must have known. No one could be that naïve."

He looked up at him, expecting Booth to agree.

"Your wife knows nothing about your affairs?" Booth asked flatly.

"No... of course not. I pay for everything on my own card. I never take them where we'll be seen. If your going to have an affair you have to be smart."

Booth decided it was time to put this guy in his place.

He pulled out the topless photo of Sarah from his jacket and laid it on Steve's desk in front of him.

"Did you take this photo of Sarah?" He asked bluntly.

Steve picked it up, grinning at it like a schoolboy.

"Well well... look at my little angel."

"Did you take this photo of Sarah?" Booth repeated.

"No." Steve said, getting more uneasy about Booth's new tone. "I'm not stupid enough to leave evidence."

"Look at the back." Booth ordered.

Steve turned it over and read the message.

_**What would your Daddy think about this? Stay away or you will be sorry.**_

"This photo was probably hand-delivered to Sarah's home address. Do you still think your wife didn't know?" Booth asked sarcastically.

Steve looked momentarily shocked.

"No... no way." He was shaking his head. "There's no way. Helen can't know."

He looked at Booth. "We're trying for a baby. She asked me to. She wouldn't have asked if she knew I was cheating. No... this is nothing to do with her."

He seemed to be convincing himself, he let out a breathe.

"Helen knows nothing about this. I'm too careful. My wife didn't write this."

"We're going to have to ask her that ourselves." Booth said flatly.

Steve looked outraged. "Out of the question." He said at once.

"Look Mr Jennington, despite what you say we need to check for ourselves." Booth said fiercely. "Your wife could have found out about your affair with Sarah. Her jealousy is a motive. We will have to talk to her."

"Oh no you will not!" Steve stood up. "I've been more than co-operative with you but my wife stays out of this! She knows nothing. You have no proof she even wrote this." He picked up the page and tutted loudly. "It's not even her handwriting." He let the page fall. "I will not allow it."

"I'm investigating a murder Mr Jennington!" Booth declared, also rising in his chair.

"I'm aware of that!" Steve exclaimed crossly. "But I've told you everything I know!"

His voice took on a threatening edge.

"Now I have nothing more to add but I will say I have a very good lawyer Agent Booth and if my wife so _much _as asks me one single thing about Sarah Jenkins, I'll have you and this..." He glanced at Brennan. "... this... _**mute airhead**_ up on slander charges, quicker than you can say-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence.

Brennan leapt out of her chair so fast Booth saw nothing but a blur.

She had smashed Steve's face into his desk and was standing behind him so fast Steve didn't even get a chance to cry out in surprise.

"Don't you _**ever**_ call me an airhead!" Brennan yelled into his ear.

"Brennan!" Booth cried in alarm. "Stop!"

He grabbed her elbow but Brennan shook him off, still pushing Steve's face into his desk.

"You think your God's gift" Brennan growled at him, bending over his back. "Well I ought to-"

"Brennan stop it!" Booth ordered, interrupting her tirade.

He grabbed her arm again and pulled her away from Steve, holding onto her to keep her back.

When Steve lifted his head, his nose was bloody and swollen.

"That's right, pull her away like a _**good girl**_." He sneered angrily at them.

"I'll have her on charges of assault for this." He told Booth, a vicious look in his eyes.

Booth felt his own temper.

"Oh no you won't!" He told him heatedly. He marched over to Steve and grabbed a fistful of the other man's shirt. "How will you explain to your wife just _why_ Brennan got so angry?"

Booth looked him in the eye, challenging him.

Steve glared back at him for a moment.

Finally he hissed. "Get - the - hell - out - of - my – office."

Booth let go of him. He turned in time to see Brennan leave the room.

She strode out so fast, Booth had to run to keep up with her.

Adele looked up from her desk as Brennan hurried past.

The duo both ignored her.

Brennan crashed through the entrance door and stopped so suddenly outside it, Booth almost walked into her.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but you were right!" She declared angrily. "He's a jerk! A complete and utter jerk!"

She looked at Booth. "I know what I promised but no woman could listen to that without-!"

"All right, Brennan, all right." Booth attempted to calm her down but she was having none of it.

"I can't believe that guy! Sarah' dead and he doesn't care at all! He just used her like a plaything!"

Her hands were still clenched into fists and she couldn't stand still.

"She did all these things for him! Changed _**herself**_ for him! Probably _**stole **_money to be with him and he doesn't even care she's dead!"

"I know Brennan, I know."

"How could he -"

"Brennan."

Brennan stopped and saw Booth looking at her meaningfully.

"I know."

He sighed. "I agree with you. The guy _**is**_ a jerk. I wanted to knock him out myself. Your as angry as I am Brennan-"

"Then why aren't you- ?"

"Yelling?" Booth finished, eyebrows raised. "I want to but I know it's not going to help. People like Steve don't think they're doing anything wrong. You're wasting your anger on him. He'll never listen. He doesn't _**care**_ to listen. There's nothing you can do."

Brennan stood still, thinking hard.

Then she met Booth's eyes.

"Maybe your right." She said finally. "But there _is_ one thing I can do."

With this, she turned and marched back inside the building.

Booth automatically thought she was going back to punch Steve again.

"Whoa, now wait a minute Bones-"

He scrambled after her but instead of Steve, Brennan marched over to Adele, who was putting papers into her bag.

"What are you-" Adele started, seeing her coming, but Brennan didn't let her finish.

She bent over the girl rather menacingly and picked up an object from her desk.

The bumble bee stapler.

"Do you know what happened to the last girl who got one of _**these**_ from _**him**_?" Brennan hissed, holding it up.

Adele looked bewildered.

"What are you-?"

Brennan interrupted her again, holding the stapler right under Adele's nose.

"_**That **_girl was found rotting in Welding's Park today. She was beaten and left for dead."

Brennan looked pointedly at Steve's office door, then down at Adele's horrified face.

"If I were you I'd be looking for another job." She said meaningfully, placing the stapler in the middle of Adele's desk.

Then she marched away without a backward glance.

Booth quickly followed her out, but not before he'd seen the look on Adele's face as he glanced back over his shoulder.

Her mouth was hanging open.

When Booth got outside, Brennan was leaning against his car, breathing hard.

She glanced at him briefly as he approached and snapped. "Just don't bother okay?"

She continued before he could speak. "I don't care if your mad at me it was for her own -"

"Actually," Booth interrupted, calmly. "I'm not mad at you."

Brennan looked up.

"I should be." He told her. "But I'm not. I was actually going to say, why don't _**we **_go have a talk with _**Mrs**_ Jennington?"

Brennan stared at him.

"Really?" She asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Yes." Booth was grinning. "Or should I say the soon–to-be _**ex- **_Mrs Jennington?"

Brennan found herself smiling back.

_Author's Note. _

_This is one of my favourite chapters because I think it's the point where Booth decides he could actually like Brennan. _

_Before now he's seen her as a big-headed, know-it-all with no social skills. _

_After this, Booth knows he was right... but the girl's got fire. She's passionate. _

_Booth likes that. _


	15. Chapter 14 Meeting The Jerk's Wife

_Author's Note._

_Thanks for all the comments so far. I rather liked the last chapter and I see from your reviews you enjoyed it too. _

_So to recap: _

_The body of missing 19-year-old Sarah Jenkins has been found in Welding's Park. _

_Brennan and Booth have just interviewed Steve Jennington about his affair with the victim._

_He's a total jerk, already onto his next conquest – his receptionist Adele. _

_Brennan promised Booth she wouldn't speak during the interview and she did very well... until Steve's rotten attitude finally made her lose her temper. _

_Booth wasn't angry like she thought he'd be – just amused she'd stood up to Steve and put him in his place. _

_Booth saw a different side to Brennan and while she drives him crazy he's decided he could, actually, find a way to like her..._

_Happy reading :) _

_**Chapter 14.**_

_**Meeting The Jerks Wife. **_

"Does this mean I can talk again now?"

Brennan asked Booth from the passenger seat, on the way to interview Mrs Jennington.

Booth, who was driving, looked at her and grinned. "Yeah... if you must."

Brennan was confused.

"Well speech is not an necessity," She frowned, "but since I would like to participate in the interview-"

"You can talk Brennan." Booth interrupted, suppressing a smile.

Brennan searched his face.

"You were making a joke?" She enquired, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Sort of." Booth's eyes twinkled. "Are you always this literal about everything Bones?"

"I always mean what I say, if that's what your getting at." Brennan replied at once, slightly defensive. "I don't understand why that's a bad thing."

"It's not..." Booth told her. "But in my line of work it's risky to – _well _- show all your cards."

Brennan frowned.

"What have cards got to do with-?"

"It's an expression Bones." Booth interrupted dryly, with a roll of his eyes. "Can we rewind this conversation please? Let's just pretend I said you can talk now and that's it."

Brennan shrugged.

"Fine with me." She agreed. "In that case, I shall be having a long talk with Mrs Jennington. She deserves to know _**exactly**_ what her horrible husband's been up to."

Booth sighed.

"She won't thank you for it though."

Brennan shrugged, indifferent.

"She'll be better off."

"But _right now_ she won't see it that way." Booth replied dryly. "She's going to be crushed."

Brennan paused, thinking.

Then she looked at him.

"Your right. That's why it's probably best if _**I**_ tell her about Steve. As a man you would just remind her of his betrayal. Angela says members of the same sex find it easier to bond. It's irrational but, as a woman, Mrs Jennington may find it easier to talk to me."

Booth was amused by what she had said and her underlying meaning.

"Does that mean _**you**_ want to do all the talking this time and I'm the one who's got to shut up?" Booth asked, somewhat amused.

Brennan tried not to smile. "Purely in the interests of the investigation."

Booth couldn't deny there was some truth to what she was saying.

"Okay." He agreed. "I'll let you do most of the talking but just watch it with the whole _literal thing_. Don't go revealing all our cards."

Brennan opened her mouth but Booth spoke before she could ask:

"I mean don't go telling Mrs J about Steve's affair until she's indicates she has no idea about _**it **_first._" _

Brennan nodded. "I know. I won't."

"We also need to see if she collaborates Steve's alibi and get a sample of her natural handwriting. If we can match it to the threat on the back of the topless photo, she's a real suspect."

Brennan looked at him, slightly surprised. "You really think _**she **_might be our murderer?"

Booth stopped at a red traffic light.

"My bet's still on Steve but it's certainly possible. Jealousy is a powerful emotion. Add a bit of adrenaline as well and it can make people do all sorts of crazy things."

There was silence from Brennan.

She had never really thought Mrs Jennington could be the murderer, even if she did write the note.

Now she was remembering Booth's lecture from earlier, about being careful with what she said to a suspect in case it put the whole investigation in jeopardy and she suddenly wondered if she _**should **_do all the talking after all.

Booth turned to her and saw the worried expression on her face.

"Brennan? You okay?" Booth asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

He was looking at her in concern and Brennan found herself telling him the truth.

"I'm not good at talking to people." She admitted, biting her lip. "I don't want to say the wrong thing."

"Well," Booth said. "I won't let you, will I?"

Brennan looked at him... and smiled.

There was a brief silence.

"You..." Brennan hesitated, struggling."Y-You were good with Steve back there... I'm sorry I lost it."

Did she just apologise?

Booth was stunned.

"It's... it's okay..." He said, awkwardly, then added. "Your heart was in the right place."

He sounded sincere.

Brennan turned to him.

Their eyes met... held...

A car honked it's horn behind them.

The traffic light had changed to green.

Booth drove on.

"How can Mr Jenkins be best friends with that guy?" Brennan announced suddenly, after a long moment. "They're so different."

Booth thought of his conversation with Angela in the elevator a few hours ago and smiled.

"I know what you mean."

There was another silence.

After a while, Brennan sighed.

"Well, I'll try not to mess this up."

"You'll be fine." Booth said confidently.

Then he grinned.

"Just try not to lose it again if Mrs J is anything like her husband."

Brennan looked at him.

"If she is they deserve each other." She declared flatly.

When Booth and Brennan arrived outside the Jennington home, they saw a five-bedroom detached property, nestled within sleepy woodland. It was miles away from it's neighbours, quiet and isolated, but very pretty with it's own stables and nearby stream.

Booth knocked at the door and it was answered a few seconds later, by an attractive woman in her forties. She had curly chestnut hair, held away from her face by a butterfly clasp. She was dressed smartly, in a beige pencil skirt, ruffled green blouse and brown high heels. She also had her coat on.

She smiled when she saw them. "Yes?"

Her voice was pleasant and her smile was friendly.

"Mrs Jennington?" Booth asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes I'm Helen. What can I do for you?"

Booth knew as the cop he would have to lead the conversation initially so he introduced himself.

"I'm FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth-" He began.

Mrs Jennington automatically looked alarmed and interrupted. "FBI? Is something wrong? Is it Steve-?"

Booth shook his head. "No Mrs Jennington, there's nothing wrong with Steve."

_'Well not physically._' Brennan thought hotly, but she stayed quiet_._

Booth indicated Brennan beside him.

"This is my colleague Dr Brennan. We just need to have a chat with you." Booth told Mrs Jennington. "May we come in?"

"Well..." She hesitated. "Okay... as long as Steve's all right..."

She stepped to the side, to allow them in.

The hallway was littered with shopping bags.

Mrs Jennington saw them looking and explained. "I've just got in... shopping spree."

She smiled, looking mildly embarrassed. "Please come through."

They followed her into the sitting room.

It was a green and taupe themed room with dark brown furniture. There were lamps everywhere – on the side tables, beside the phone and small ones hanging on the walls.

The coffee table in the centre of the room held a bouquet of fake gold flowers but there were real red ones in a vase on the windowsill. A large screen TV was fixed high on the wall. Beside it was a wooden book cabinet that held photo's, ornaments and knick-knacks as well as books.

In the centre of the feature wall was a large, wedding day picture of the Jenningtons, proudly displayed in a gold frame.

The warm overall effect of the room didn't seem to fit at all with what they knew about Steve Jennington and Booth thought that Helen must be behind the décor.

The duo took a seat on a large green leather sofa.

Mrs Jennington took off her coat and sat down in the matching armchair beside them.

"So... what would you like to talk to me about?"

She looked calmer now that she knew her husband wasn't in danger.

"Well Mrs Jennington-" Booth began but Helen held up her hand.

"Please call me Helen." She said good naturedly, smiling warmly at both Brennan and Booth. "Mrs Jennington makes me feel old."

Booth smiled politely back at her.

"If you've been out shopping all day I'm assuming you won't have seen the News?" He asked.

Mrs Jennington shook her head, looking puzzled.

"Do you know Sarah Jenkins?" Booth asked.

Mrs Jennington looked alarmed.

"Yes of course... Why? Have you found her?"

Booth took a breathe.

"I'm afraid Sarah's body was found this morning at Welding's park."

Mrs Jennington looked shocked, then her face crumpled in sadness.

"Oh... that's terrible. Poor Maggie... poor Richard."

She looked genuinely upset at the news.

"I just can't believe it..." Helen shook her head. "What happened?"

Brennan grimaced.

"I'm sorry to say... but we're investigating her death as murder."

Helen's eyes widened and she looked horrified.

"Oh My God. That can't be. That's terrible. Oh no."

She cradled her head in her hands.

Booth looked at Brennan, nodding that she could take over.

Brennan paused.

"Did you know Sarah well?" She asked, unsure how to get Mrs Jennington talking.

Helen sniffed and looked up. Her eyes were watery.

"She was such a nice girl." She said softly. "I can't believe it. Maggie will be devastated."

"So you knew Sarah was missing?"

"Yes of course." Helen nodded. "Sarah's mom and I are friends. Maggie was worried sick. I felt terrible for her. It must be a nightmare, not knowing where your child is and now-"

Her breathe hitched.

"I'm sorry." Her eyes looked watery again. "It's just so..." She shook her head, her voice trailing off.

"When was the last time you saw Sarah?" Booth asked.

Mrs Jennington looked at him.

"Me? A few months back... Maggie and I were having lunch. Sarah was slipping out the door... to see her boyfriend I think she said."

"How about the 15th?" Brennan asked. "The day she went missing?"

Mrs Jennington looked at her. "No... I hadn't seen her in a while. Why?"

Booth answered for Brennan.

"Just routine. We're interviewing all the people that knew Sarah. We're trying to work out her movements on the day she was last seen. It helps to talk to people who knew her. Just to get a feel for her, you know... her personality... what she was like..."

Mrs Jennington nodded in agreement and seemed satisfied with this explanation.

"Of course... I'll do anything to help. I didn't know her that well really... but Maggie would talk about her... she was a typical teenager... off doing her own thing..."

She stopped, looking sad again. "God I used to babysit her when she was tiny.."

"Did anyone else ever talk about her...? Your husband maybe?"

"Steve...?" Mrs Jennington shook her head. "No not really."

"They worked together didn't they?" Brennan asked.

Mrs Jennington nodded. "Yes. She worked for him for a while... I asked him how she was getting on and he always said he was happy with her work..."

Brennan and Booth exchanged looks at this.

"He thought she was a good employee." Helen continued.

"Did you know she left your husband's company?" Brennan asked.

Helen nodded. "Yes to go travelling. That's why we thought-" She stopped, gulping. "I'm sorry. I still can't believe it-"

She shook her head.

"Are you and Maggie close?" Brennan enquired.

Mrs Jennington managed a watery smile.

"We have to be really. Richard and Steve have known each other for years. When they go off together Maggie and I have each other for company."

Brennan took a breathe, asking the most important question of the day in what she hoped was a casual tone.

"What about Steve? Do you know where he was on the 15th...?"

Mrs Jennington looked up at once and Booth was quick to clarify. "Just so we don't have to bother him at work, of course."

He sent her a smile and neglected to mention they already had.

Helen nodded.

"Steve works so hard. He works six days a week, you know? Only has a lie-in on a Sunday. I worry about him. He does such long hours. But he's so good at his job. He'd have been working. He's always home by seven for his dinner though... telly... then off too bed."

"And you? What do you do when Steve is at work?" Brennan asked.

"It must be lonely for you." Booth added. "In this big house... while Steve's working."

Helen nodded. "It can be." She admitted. She looked down. "But I have lots of things to keep me busy... lots of things."

She smiled a little for some reason.

Brennan saw her place her hand on her stomach.

"So what were you doing on the 15th Mrs Jennington?" Booth asked. "When your husband was working?"

"I'm not sure. Would you like me to consult my diary?"

Brennan nodded.

"Yes that would be very helpful of you Mrs Jennington."

"Helen." She reminded them with a smile. "I'll help in any way I can." She added, sincere.

Mrs Jennington's black leather handbag was sitting on the coffee table.

She pulled out a a small leather notebook and flipped through it.

"Let's see... the 15th... er... here it is... oh yes now I remember. I was visiting my Daddy that afternoon."

She looked up and explained.

"He's in a nursing home. I got home at six to make Steve his tea. I remember now... I didn't feel very well that night. Steve and I went to bed early."

She closed the book and went to put it back in her handbag.

Booth saw an opportunity to get a sample of her handwriting.

"Say Mrs Jennington could I trouble you for a cup of coffee?" Booth asked suddenly, half smiling. "I'm parched."

Helen looked surprised by his question but she smiled. "Of course it's no trouble at all."

She turned to Brennan. "Would you like one too Dr Brennan?"

Brennan shook her head. "No thank you."

Mrs Jennington put the notebook down on the coffee table.

"Excuse me for a second."

She got up and left the room.

Booth seized the book as soon as she'd gone.

He pulled out the topless photo from his pocket and Brennan looked over his shoulder as he flipped the pages until he reached the date they were looking for.

There was one simple sentence under the 15th, written in Mrs Jenningtons own hand:

_**Visit Daddy. Don't forget his mints.**_

Brennan and Booth compared it to the one on the back of the topless photo of Sarah Jenkins:

**What would your Daddy think about this? Stay away or you will be sorry.**

They looked at each other.

"It doesn't match." Brennan said aloud.

"No it doesn't." Booth agreed, looking annoyed. "I can't believe it."

The two sets of handwriting could not have been more different.

Helen's handwriting was distinctive, very curly and impossibly neat.

The handwriting on the back of the topless photo was scrawled and close together.

The word 'Daddy', common in both sentences, looked completely different.

It didn't need handwriting analysis.

Helen Jennington did not send her husband's lover a threatening message.

So who did?

"Should we leave?" Brennan asked Booth. "We're wasting our time."

"So she didn't write this." Booth said, shrugging. He folded up the photo and put the diary back on the coffee table. "There's still a distance possibility she killed Sarah anyway. Besides we can still find out more information about Ste-"

He stopped abruptly as Mrs Jennington came back into the room carrying Booth's coffee.

Apparently she hadn't heard as she smiled as she handed his coffee over.

"Here you go. I'm sorry I didn't offer you any when you arrived. Under other circumstances I'm a better hostess."

"It's fine Mrs Jenning-" Booth began.

He stopped when a something bounded into the room out of nowhere.

"Mollie!" Mrs Jennington cried out, suddenly. "You're not allowed in here!"

'Mollie' ignored her but enthusiastically leapt onto Booth's lap and started licking him.

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks.

'Mollie' was a yellow Labrador puppy.

Hodgins had found a dog hair on Sarah's dead body.

A hair that belonged to a yellow Labrador.

"I'm sorry." Mrs Jennington apologised, attempting to pull the excited puppy away from him. "I'm trying to train her but classes don't seem to be helping..."

"It's okay." Booth said, deliberately encouraging the dog with tickles because he needed it to stay in the room. "I love dogs."

The dog rolled over and Booth proved his point by rubbing her belly.

"Isn't she precious?" Helen cooed, giving in, despite it being on her _leather _couch.

"How long have you had her?" Brennan asked.

"A few weeks. Steve brought her for me." She beamed. "He's always bringing me such lovely gifts."

Brennan followed her gaze to the flowers on her windowsill and watched as Helen patted her stomach again.

Booth wasn't paying attention, still stroking the puppy that was now making little yelping noises at him.

"Her name's Mollie?" He asked. "She's very cute."

"Yes, she's adorable." Mrs Jennington said, her eyes misty as she looked at the dog.

Booth sent Brennan a look. He looked at his coffee. Then back at her.

Brennan frowned.

Booth looked pointedly at his coffee again.

Then at her.

Brennan got the message.

"Actually Mrs Jennington I'd love a cup of coffee." Brennan said abruptly, plastering a smile on her face. "I am thirsty after all." She added.

Mrs Jennington looked surprised again but she nodded good-naturedly.

"Of course. It's no trouble."

She got up.

Booth deliberately made another show of scratching the dog's belly so Mrs Jennington wouldn't attempt to make it leave with her.

Mrs Jennington hesitated, then smiled and disappeared into her kitchen.

"Hold her still a minute." Brennan told Booth quietly.

She pulled a tissue from a box lying on the coffee table and put a few of the dog's hairs into it.

The excitable puppy wriggled like crazy and attempted to lick Brennan's hands.

"Sorry about this Mollie." She said, smiling despite herself.

"Good girl." Booth said, rubbing the pup's head.

Brennan folded the tissue carefully and put it in her pocket.

"I'll have Hodgins do a comparison once we get back to the lab." She told Booth.

Booth nodded as Mrs Jennington came back into the room with Brennan's coffee and handed it to her.

"Thank you." Brennan said.

Mrs Jennington sat down.

She put her hand straight on her stomach.

Brennan suddenly had a bad feeling about that.

"Are you not having a coffee Mrs Jennington?" She asked, somehow knowing the answer.

Helen shook her head and answered too quickly. "Oh no. I'm trying to cut down. Coffee is bad for-"

She stopped, looking embarrassed.

"People. Coffee is bad for people." She finished lamely.

Brennan put her cup down. "Mrs Jennington? Are you pregnant?" She asked bluntly.

Booth almost choked. "Brennan! You can't-"

He looked at Mrs Jennington to apologise but he saw Helen was smiling.

"You got me." She said, her cheeks flushing in a delight she couldn't hold back.

"I'm pregnant." She declared.

For a second her megawatt smile matched her husband's.

Brennan and Booth looked at each other in shock.

"I know. It's wonderful isn't it?" Helen gushed, misreading the look between them. "I can't believe it. Steve will be thrilled."

"You haven't told him yet?" Booth asked at once, surprised.

"No..." She looked embarrassed again. "I was out buying baby things today. I'm going to put them all over the bed and when Steve comes in..." Her smile was radiant. "He'll love it."

"I'm sure he'll be shocked." Brennan said, looking at Booth.

"He'll be shocked all right." Booth agreed darkly.

Helen missed his tone, too wrapped up in her own happiness.

"So am I." She laughed. "I'm 42." She confessed, looking sheepish "We're only been trying for six months."

"Six months?" Booth echoed.

He knew Steve and Sarah's relationship had only 'ended' five months ago.

"I just _**know**_ he'll be as thrilled as I am." Helen was chattering on and she didn't stop beaming the whole time. "Steve's wonderful. I'm so lucky. He's the best husband. I just know he'll make a fantastic father too..."

Brennan no longer had the urge to tell Mrs Jennington about _**anything.**_

The woman obviously had no idea her husband was such a jerk.

The way she was gushing about him, there was no chance she knew about _**any**_ of her husband's affairs.

Brennan swallowed thickly.

She suddenly felt sick.

She couldn't listen to Mrs Jennington go on about how wonderful Steve was anymore.

She had to get out of there.

She stood up abruptly.

"We have to be going." She announced abruptly.

Booth looked at Brennan.

"We do?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"We do." Brennan told him, sending him a pointed look.

She turned to Helen. "Congratulations Mrs Jennington."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes and Booth realised immediately why she wanted to go.

He stood up.

"Yes Mrs Jennington congratulations. I'm sorry we came so late in the day but we'll leave you now."

"It's fine..." Mrs Jennington got up and led them to the door. "I hope I helped a bit."

"Yes you did." Booth assured her. "If you have any other information for us please give me a call." Booth handed her his card.

"I'll have to go see Maggie now." Mrs Jennington said as she led them down her hallway. "Offer her my condolences. Steve and I should send a gift. How am I going to tell him-?"

Brennan ignored her and left.

Booth said a hasty, somewhat embarrassed, goodbye and followed her out.

Brennan was already sitting in his car when he got to it.

She would not look at him, deliberately gazing in the opposite direction.

Booth got in without a word, started the engine and drove.

For a long while neither of them said anything.

Finally Brennan spoke.

"I should have said something."

She looked at Booth, looking uncomfortable.

"I don't know why I didn't."

Booth kept his eyes on the road, he knew he had to choose his next words carefully.

"Helen is a nice lady." He said at last.

Brennan seemed to ponder this.

"But I don't know her."

She struggled to understand her own actions.

"I have no feelings towards her. Not telling her about Steve's affairs is... is... me being emotional. I shouldn't be emotional with someone I don't know. It's not rational-"

"Bones?"

Brennan looked at him.

"Don't call me-"

Booth stopped her with his next words.

_"Helen is a nice lady."_

Brennan got his meaning.

They were silent the rest of the journey home.


	16. Chapter 15 Meeting With Questions

_Author's note._

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed so far._

_I've just heard Hart Hanson is thinking of doing a 'how Booth and Brennan met' storyline for the hundredth episode of Bones and I'm thrilled about it! _

_I've never completed a story in my life but I'm determined to finish this one so keep the reviews coming please as I need the encouragement!_

_To recap: _

_The body of missing 19-year-old Sarah Jenkins was found in Welding's Park._

_Brennan and Booth have just interviewed Helen Jennington, as they thought she was responsible for sending the victim a threatening letter._

_Unfortunately, her handwriting didn't match the message._

_Brennan then took some hairs from Helen's Labrador dog Mollie, to see if they matched a dog hair that was found on the victim's body. _

_Booth believes Helen's husband, Steve, is a strong suspect for the murder, especially since he and the victim were having an affair. _

_Brennan could not control her temper when they last spoke to Steve and unfortunately her actions may now come back to haunt Booth..._

**Chapter 15.**

**Meeting With Questions.**

Temperance Brennan had spent all day Sunday [and much of the night] carefully building a bone.

It had taken all her concentration to reassemble the shattered pieces of Sarah's fourth rib.

The complicated task had tested her patience to the limit but Brennan could be very patient when she wanted to be.

Now it was late Monday morning, she was tired and uncomfortable, but the finished rib was finally complete.

Brennan found herself smiling in satisfaction - _at an object left over from her elaborate 'jigsaw puzzle.'_

Her patience had paid off.

She turned to Booth to tell him.

"I'm finished."

"Hallelujah" was Booth's grumbled response.

Despite his tone, Brennan was amused.

He was sitting a few feet away from her, in a business-like black suit, yet it was impossible not to notice the loud, neon yellow tie around his neck.

He was also playing with a yo yo.

It was just a shame about the scowl on his face.

He'd been wearing it ever since he'd arrived at the Jeffersonian a few hours ago and Brennan was suddenly reminded of his bad mood when they met two days previously.

"Are you always this grumpy in the morning?" She asked, quite seriously.

Booth sent her a scathing look.

"Only when you _**squints **_keep giving me more questions than answers." He declared moodily.

"_**Us**_ what?" Brennan asked, but Booth ignored this.

He stood up and started pacing.

"How am I supposed to do my job if all my time is spent just waiting around for you lot?" He wondered aloud.

"Are you referring to me?" Brennan replied, bristling a little, because it had taken her a long time to repair Sarah's rib.

But Booth was off in his own world and carried on like she hadn't spoken.

"I've got Cullen demanding results. The media demanding answers." He grumbled to himself. "I don't know which one's worse. All eyes are on me. Just when it looks as if I have a good theory, the lab results _**I do **_get from _**you lot**_ don't add up and I get even _**more **_questions than what I started with."

At this, Brennan realised what he was talking about.

"Oh you're referring to Hodgins." She declared.

Booth stopped pacing and looked at her. "Of course I am..." He said it like it was obvious. "_**T**__**he bug guy**_... he's _**not**_ helping."

He flopped back into his chair with a groan.

Brennan understood why Booth was frustrated.

While Brennan had been busy rebuilding Sarah's fourth rib, Jack Hodgins had been carrying out tests of his own – on the hair samples they had taken from Mrs Jenningtons Labrador dog Mollie.

Booth had been sure Mollie's hair would match the dog hair found on Sarah's body and they would at least have more evidence against Steve Jennington.

Unfortunately, Hodgins said the opposite.

Mollie's hair was _**not**_ a match for the one absorbed into Sarah's chest cavity as she decomposed.

That hair was from a much older dog and could not possibly have come from Mrs Jenningtons puppy.

When Booth had heard this news from Hodgins he'd been far from happy.

Brennan sighed.

"I know your upset, it's not the result you wanted but Hodgins is just trying to help us." She told Booth. "He gave you the facts. Facts are always helpful."

Booth paused, then frowned.

"I'm _**not **_upset."

Brennan had not been expecting him to comment on this part of what she had said. "Yes you are. You keep pacing. And you keep frowning. Both recognised physical indicators of stress. Plus you keep playing with that ridiculous yo-yo-"

Booth immediately put it down.

"I'm _**not **_upset." He repeated, "I'm just..."

He paused, searching for a word.

"I'm _**frustrated **_with our progress on this case."

Brennan raised an eyebrow.

Booth had mentioned he'd spoken to his boss before he came to the Jeffersonian today but he hadn't told her the details of the meeting and she hadn't asked.

"Oh I see. Cullen is mad at you. " She told him seriously, being typical direct Brennan. "So your upset because he lectured you... oh I understand now."

Booth glared at her.

She was right and he didn't like she was right.

He stood up abruptly and started pacing again.

"Cullen is just as frustrated as I am. We have nothing on this case. Steve is the best suspect we have-"

He held up his hand and indicated the reasons on his fingers as he continued.

"He's got a strong motive, he's arrogant enough to think he wouldn't get caught, he's got a flimsy alibi-"

He looked at her.

"But now the only piece of evidence I might have had on him has just been... been... _vetoed _by your _**Bug Guy **_so I think I'm entitled to be annoyed because once again I have no leads ..." He stopped and sighed loudly.

"We're still gathering evidence." Brennan reminded him evenly.

"Yes but while I'm waiting around for _**you lot**_ to gather evidence and _**squint**_ into your microscopes a murderer is still on the streets." Booth said darkly.

"Answers take time." Brennan replied.

"You may have the patience to wait for them but I don't." Booth declared. "Not if I keep getting more questions. If the dog hair didn't come from Mollie then where did it come from?"

He flopped down in his chair again, letting out a defeated sigh.

Brennan felt a tinge of sympathy for him.

"Booth?" She said.

He made indication he had heard her.

"Booth, look at me."

Booth hesitated... but did as she asked.

"We'll figure it out." She said confidently, looking him in the eye. "Whatever happened. We'll figure it out."

He looked at her... then nodded slowly.

"Patience does pay off." Brennan said, remembering she had something to show Booth on her table. "Come and look at this."

Booth got up and stood over Brennan as they looked down at Sarah's fourth rib.

It was sitting on the table intact but it was just a rib as far as Booth was concerned, he couldn't see the point of repairing it.

"So you've put it back together." Booth shrugged. "What's that going to prove?"

Brennan looked at him. "A lot of things actually. Angela has a program she's working on. She can use the way the rib shattered to help her run scenario's about how Sarah died and estimate dimensions for her attacker. Zach and I can calculate the type of weapon used that would do this kind of damage. It will help or I wouldn't have done it."

She smiled at him then, a little smugly.

"There's also the fact that if I hadn't repaired Sarah's rib I wouldn't have found _**this**_ left over."

Brennan indicated the small object inside a clear plastic evidence bag that was lying beside the finished rib.

Booth looked down and squinted at what was inside.

"What's that?" He asked, puzzled.

Brennan smiled.

"Not much." She admitted. "Until you pair it with _**this.**_"

Brennan placed a _**second**_ clear plastic evidence bag beside the first.

She put on a pair of gloves and took out each object from it's bag. Then she held them up, one in each hand, for Booth to see.

In her left hand she held a fragment of shiny metal. One side was smooth, the other side jagged.

In her right hand she held the same thing, only jagged in the opposite way.

Both pieces were mall, about 1cm in length.

Booth looked at them, then at Brennan.

"What are they?" He said aloud.

Brennan smiled.

"Look..."

She slotted both jagged sides of metal together.

They fit perfectly.

They were now looking at the tip of one _**single **_object.

Brennan was smiling at him in triumph.

"This is the tip of the murder weapon." She declared. "I suggest it broke off when she was stabbed. I found both pieces among the bone fragments. When I repaired Sarah's rib, these two pieces were left over. When I slotted them together like this..."

Her voice trailed off as she slotted the pieces together again for emphasis.

"What type of metal is that?" Booth asked.

"Silver." Brennan answered.

"Silver!" Booth exclaimed. "But I thought silver shows up on an x-ray..."

He was referring to the x-rays of Sarah's body she'd had done a few days before.

Brennan nodded, quickly explaining.

"It does normally but x-ray machines are trained to look for things at room temperature. Both pieces were in Sarah's chest cavity and had been subjected to extreme humidly over the past few weeks with the hot weather."

She looked at him. "If I hadn't repaired Sarah's rib they might have been missed altogether..."

She trailed off again, smiling.

Booth got her point. "All right, I get the message. So your patience paid off."

Brennan smiled in satisfaction and her smugness bugged him.

He rolled his eyes.

"You do realise this is _**pointed.**_" Booth said _pointedly_, indicating the object in her hand. "It looks to me like the tip of a silver knife and you said-"

"She wasn't stabbed with a knife!" Brennan protested hotly.

"But it's point-"

"It's not pointed enough to be a knife." Brennan cut him off firmly. "Look."

She put her finger on the top to emphasis it didn't cut her.

"I'd say it was the cover for the end of something. A blunt object."

Booth looked at her like he was unconvinced.

"What good does that do? There's a thousand things it could be."

Brennan knew he had a point. "Yes but Angela's computer program will help with that and at least we might be getting somewhere. When we find the murder weapon we can match this to it as proof. We find the murderer."

Booth flopped down in his chair again.

"That's great but thanks to your _**Bug Guy**_ I have no evidence to go trampling through Steve's house looking for the object it _**might**_ have come from. At the moment no judge would ever issue me with a warrant."

Brennan frowned.

"Your placing too much emphasis on Steve." She said critically. "We're three days into the case. It _**is**_ possible he didn't do this."

Booth looked like he was about to say something but Brennan went on before he could.

"It's true the guy's a jerk but that doesn't make him a murderer."

"It is safe to come in?"

Hodgins had his head poked round the door, he was waving a white file like a flag in mock surrender.

"I come in peace." He said, looking at Booth.

Booth frowned and looked away from him.

"Just as long as you haven't come with more questions for me to answer." He muttered under his breathe.

Hodgins look confused. "Huh?"

Brennan nodded at him, putting him out of his misery. "You can come in Hodgins."

Hodgins sent her a grateful smile and came in. He was wearing the same blue jeans he'd worn earlier that morning to tell them about the dog hair, as well as the same white shirt, but with the sleeves rolled up and his collar undone, it looked more rumpled than before.

He approached Booth and held out the white file he'd brought with him.

"A peace offering. I thought I'd better redeem himself from earlier since you didn't take my findings very well."

"A file is going to do that?" Booth said sceptically.

Hodgins nodded.

"I hope so. I got a buddy of mine from Graphology to take a look at the message on the back of the topless photo. I wondered if he could tell us anything that might help."

Brennan sent Booth a pointed _'I told you he was just trying to help'_ look as she came over to Booth's desk.

"Did he get anything?" She asked.

Hodgins nodded as he opened the file on Booth's desk.

He laid out the topless photo with it's threatening message and the envelope it had come in, side by side.

"First of all, Gavin says the handwriting on both of these are the same. So the _same person _printed out the topless photo of Sarah_, wrote the threatening message_ on the back, put it in _this _envelope and _wrote Sarah's name_ on the front."

He placed his finger against Sarah's name on the envelope.

Then he went on.

"So the note must have been hand delivered, which suggests it was someone who knew Sarah because he or she had to know where Sarah lived."

Booth already knew this.

"Get to the point." He said tartly.

Hodgins frowned.

"The point is I got my mate to check out our little message and the envelope it came in and he found out one or two interesting things."

"Fingerprints?" Booth automatically asked but Hodgins shook his head straight away.

"All smudged, they wouldn't stand up as evidence. No, my friend was looking more at the handwriting side."

He bent over the message on the table and Booth and Brennan followed suit as he explained.

"Gavin says the writing's done in real ink. Not Biro. It was written with a Rental Ultra Fine S570 according to analysis of the ink and the International Ink Library. The paper is from a standard W H Smith printing pad. People like to use pads to lean on when they write so Gavin applied ESDA on the paper on the long shot he might get something."

"What's that?" Booth asked at the same time Brennan said "Get what?"

"Electrostatic Detection Apparatus." Hodgins explained for Booth, smiling. "When you write on a sheet of paper you leave a faint impression on the paper underneath. ESDA is a way to make that writing clear."

He pulled out another piece of paper from the file.

"Gavin got nothing from the threatening message at all. No impressions on either side of the photo or the message itself, _**but" **_He emphasised the word. "he got _this_ impression off the envelope it came in."

On a separate sheet of paper, Gavin from Graphology, had written some brief, but puzzling, words:

_Swann _

_10_

_5 / 15_

_Eleanor. _

"What does that mean?" Booth frowned.

Hodgins smile vanished.

"Well... I don't know." He admitted, quietly. "But it's a start. This imprint looks to be the same handwriting as on the message and the envelope. All we have to do is find out who wrote this and we find the person who threatened Sarah."

Booth let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah and to do that _**I**_ have to figure out what it means. Another question to add to my list." He said grumpily as his eyes flashed in annoyance.

Brennan stepped in front of Hodgins and sent Booth a warning look as she turned to him.

"You did very well Hodgins. We appreciate you trying to help, don't we Booth?"

Booth sent her a stony glare but she returned it with matching intensity.

Finally he sighed, giving in.

"All right... all right." Booth grumbled. "Thanks I guess."

Hodgins visibly relaxed and went to say something else but Angela chose that moment to breeze in.

"Hey guys."

She looked fresh and sunny in a orange blouse and black pencil skirt. She was also holding a white file and Booth had a horrible sense of deja vu, especially when she looked straight at him.

"I'm glad your here. I wanted to catch you."

"Not you too." Booth grumbled. "You're not bringing me more questions, are you?"

Angela stopped, looking confused. "Huh?"

Brennan smiled. "Ignore him." She told Angela. "He's just upset because Hodgins brought us evidence he doesn't like. "

Angela continued to look puzzled so Brennan elaborated. "Hodgins just brought us new evidence relating to the threatening message, but Booth is upset he's now got more questions to answer, when he _**should **_be grateful to Hodgins for trying to help."

"I'm _**not **_upset." Booth announced hotly.

"At least we know one thing." Hodgins said, trying to lighten the mood.

"What?" Booth rounded on him.

"Our mystery message-writer is a bad speller." Hodgins tried lamely, waving the ESDA message in front of them. "'Swan isn't spelt with _**two '**_N's."

No one laughed but Brennan did groan and tell him. "You're not helping yourself Hodgins."

Angela took the paper away from Hodgins and looked at it.

"Did you say 'Swann' with two N's?" She asked, reading it herself.

Brennan, Booth and Hodgins immediately sensed her tone and looked at her.

"Yeah, so what?" Booth asked finally.

Angela looked at Brennan.

"Haven't you ever been there?" She asked her, without waiting for an answer she continued. "It's Swann Beauty. In town."

"How do you know?" Booth asked, standing at her side and looking down at the ESDA message.

Angela rolled her eyes.

"I tried to get an appointment there once and they basically told me I wasn't rich enough."

"Your sure?" Booth asked. "It definitely means that place?"

"I think so." Angela nodded. "That's the only place I know where 'Swan' is spelt like this. It's owned by a lady called Mrs Swann. It's full of the super rich. Models. Film stars I hear too."

She looked down at the page again.

"From this I'd definitely say 'Swann' stands for Swann Beauty. The 10?" She shrugged and looked at Booth. "Probably a time. Maybe a 10 O clock appointment?"

"So the 5 / 15 would be the date!" Booth picked up on her chain of thought and smiled.

"Angela your amazing." He declared warmly.

Angela half-smiled. "Well I'm poor according to the Swann people but I'm glad I could help."

"Now you see that's what I wanted." Booth looked at Brennan, beaming. "An answer."

Angela put the ESDA paper down on the desk and smiled at him.

"Well I'm glad your in a better mood now because I have something I think you should see."

Booth's face automatically crumpled.

Before he could say anything Angela went on.

"I just got this email sent down from the FBI." She said, opening her own white file. "It's Sarah's mobile phone records for the day she vanished and it's very interesting, look."

She handed it to him, while Brennan and Hodgins looked over his shoulder.

On the page was a list of calls made to Sarah and some Sarah had made herself.

On the day she died Sarah had _**made**_ two phone calls to the same number in the morning. One at 11.10 AM. Another at 11.20.

There was another one at 12.05 midday to a different number.

Finally, there was two phone calls made _**to**_ Sarah's number.

Angela pointed at the first one.

"This call here at 10.30 PM, that's from Robert Jones." She confirmed.

"So he _did _call Sarah that night, like her mother said." Brennan declared.

Booth nodded. "Yeah but he never denied he called. He said he asked her if she was coming over for a movie night with him and his sister."

"That's not what I wanted to show you." Angela said. "Look."

She drew their attention to the second number.

"There's this other call to her phone on the same night at 10.34 PM."

Booth looked and saw the number was different to Rob's.

"_**Someone else **_called her that night." He declared, surprised.

Angela smiled broadly. "The person Sarah called at 12.05 obviously got round to ringing her back, look it's the same number."

Booth looked and saw she was right.

"They spoke for five minutes." He said. "Who's number is it?"

Angela smiled. "That's the question. I rung it. No one answered but I did a little digging."

She paused and when all eyes were on her she dropped her bombshell.

"The mobile number's registered to Steve Jennington."

"Steve!" Booth exclaimed.

"The one and only." Angela smiled.

Booth rounded on Brennan.

"I knew it! He must have met her that night!"

Brennan frowned.

"But his wife said-"

"Maybe she was lying!" Booth interrupted. "Or maybe he sneaked out of the house while she was asleep! The point is he called Sarah _**after **_Rob, then she tells her Mom she's going out!"

He paused, thinking, and smacked his forehead in sudden realisation. "What if _**he**_ printed out the topless photo and wrote the threatening message on the back?"

Brennan looked doubtful but Booth ploughed on.

"No no listen! He wrote it to get rid of Sarah because she wouldn't leave him alone! He said she kept calling him despite telling her it was over. He denied seeing the topless photo but we never got a sample of his handwriting!"

Brennan sighed, realising he did have a point.

"I suppose this means we've got to go have another chat with Steve then?" She asked.

Booth's enthusiasm drained out of him like a popped balloon.

"No." He said... awkwardly. "At least... not yet."

"What?" Brennan was confused. "Why not?"

Booth shrugged, not looking at her.

"I... I just think we should wait a while." He said vaguely.

"But why?"

"We don't have enough evidence. We'll check out Swann Beauty first."

Brennan didn't understand his sudden reluctance to talk to Steve since Booth had said he was their best suspect not so long ago.

"But Steve obviously spoke to Sarah late that night and he didn't mention it." Brennan protested. "We have to talk to him."

"No." Booth said forcefully. "I said not yet."

Brennan stopped, staring at him in amazement.

"Your not afraid of him are you?" She asked incredulously, able to think of no other reason for his reluctance,

Booth went to protest but it was Angela who spoke up next. "Well I agree it's probably not a good idea to rock the boat so much after what happened this morning... you know, with Cullen."

There was silence.

Brennan looked at Booth. "What happened with Cullen?"

Booth didn't answer.

Angela looked from him to Brennan and realised she'd just let the cat out of the bag.

"Didn't you tell her?" She asked Booth, surprised.

Booth looked uncomfortable.

"Tell me what?" Brennan demanded. When no one answered she said again. "Tell me what?"

Angela looked at Booth but his lips were set in a thin line.

She sighed and said aloud. "Cullen had a go at Booth earlier, during their meeting."

Brennan shrugged.

"I guessed that, so?"

She looked at Booth. "What does that have to do with us going to interview Steve again?"

Booth looked even more uncomfortable and he avoided her eyes.

Brennan suddenly remembered how Booth had a scowl on his face ever since he'd got to the Jeffersonian. He'd been called to a meeting with his boss beforehand. What if Hodgin's dog hair wasn't the only reason he was in a bad mood? Come to think of it, he'd been scowling even before Hodgins had said anything...

Brennan guessed what he didn't want to tell her.

"Steve made a complaint didn't he?"

Booth grimaced.

"Yeah he did." He admitted finally.

Brennan was shocked - and very confused.

"But... Goodman hasn't said anything to-"

"Not about you." Booth said flatly, looking at her. "About me."

Brennan sucked in a breathe.

"What?"

Booth sighed and realised he'd have to explain.

"I told you Cullen called me to his office before I came here today." He told her. "He lectured me about progress on the case... but he _**also **_said Jennington had been to see him first thing. He'd given him an official letter of complaint. It seems he thinks I showed '_**unprofessional conduct in my questioning of him." **_Booth quoted dryly, using air quotes.

"He said that?" Brennan asked, in shock.

"That's what was on the letter he wrote." Booth said, shrugging. "Cullen said he'd try to sweet talk Steve around but I have to be on my best behaviour and that includes you Bones." His voice was firm. "No more bloody noses... no matter how much the guy deserves it."

"So that's it?" Brennan asked, numbly. "We can't question him any more?"

"Not until I have more evidence that's for sure." Booth said evenly.

He looked at Brennan.

"We do things my way from now on. My case remember? I need more evidence against Jennington before I can go near him again. If you want to help me find it I'll let you come with me to Swann Beauty. From the sounds of it I'll need a woman with me..."

Brennan looked at him.

She knew it was highly likely Steve was taking the humiliation he had suffered from her, out on Booth.

It was her fault he was in trouble with his boss.

"Okay we do things your way." She agreed. Then she added. "But may I suggest we stop by Cullen's office on the way?"

Booth threw up his hands. "No definitely not... I don't want you anywhere near my boss!" He said angrily. "Things are bad enough without you yelling at -"

"I'm not going to do any yelling." Brennan stated calmly.

Something in her tone made Booth stop and look at her.

"I was simply going to suggest we pick up Steve's letter of complaint."

Brennan was smiling slightly.

"It might come in useful, after all."


	17. Chapter 16 Meeting A Familiar Face

_Author's Note._

_Thanks for the reviews everyone, keep them coming. It's nice getting feedback and I need the encouragement!_

_What did everyone think of the series five opener of Bones? _

_Despite glossing over last season's 'who are you?' with a kind-of anti climax, as well as the predictable clown thing [which, I have to say, I cringed at a bit] the episode was largely enjoyable and a good beginning to the show._

_I look forward to the rest of series five but for now I hope _**you **_enjoy this next chapter. _

**Chapter 16.**

**Meeting A Familiar Face.**

When Booth and Brennan arrived at Swann Beauty, Booth was in a better mood.

Cullen had not been very enthusiastic about surrendering Steve Jennington's letter of complaint to the duo, but after lots of fast talking, lots of charm smiles and absolutely _**no **_input from Brennan, Booth now had Steve's letter safely in his pocket.

Booth was desperate to get it back to the lab but right now he needed to build up a stronger case against his prime suspect.

For that he needed to pay a visit to Swann Beauty.

Somebody had an appointment with the salon on May 15th at 10AM.

That person had written a sinister threat and hand delivered it to Sarah's house:

_**STAY AWAY OR YOU WILL BE SORRY.**_

Booth already knew Steve's wife Helen wasn't responsible and he was desperate to find out exactly _**who**_ was.

He had no doubt that person would be involved with Steve Jennington in one way or another.

After a quick internet search Booth found out that Swann Beauty was:

_'A facility for finding one's beautiful inner self, while enjoying the best in health & beauty care. Swann Beauty will make you feel MORE than a million dollars!" _

Or at least, that's what their website boasted.

Now looking up at the impressive building, Booth found he was glad Brennan was with him.

It was huge for one thing.

Despite being in the centre of town, Swann Beauty was the size of a holiday camp, set in the midst of lush, manicured lawns.

It looked more like a stately home than a beauty salon.

At the side of the building was a man-made pond, the size of a football pitch. Booth could make out white swans in the water, cooling themselves under the hot afternoon sun.

A single white gravelled path led from the car park to the huge front door.

As he and Brennan got closer, Booth realised the brickwork was painted light pink. When the sunlight hit it, the whole building appeared to glow.

All the window frames were painted white. Each one was adorned with a hanging basket, which held pink and white flowers.

The front door had been painted with the Swann Beauty logo - a giant white swan, it's wings outstretched.

The caption below the swan read:

_'Release your inner swan.'_

Overall, the whole place had a strong 'girlie' vibe and Booth was glad to have a woman with him.

Even if it had to be Temperance Brennan.

Booth reached up and pressed the intercom buzzer that was set in the door.

The voice that answered was computer-generated and very posh:

"Welcome Swann. State your name and number please."

Booth looked at Brennan.

Her shrug didn't need words.

Booth hesitated.

"FBI." He said finally. "Open up."

There was a pause as the buzzer made a whirling sound.

The computer-generated voice spoke again:

"No emergency recorded. Please state your business at reception."

There was a clicking sound as the door popped open.

Booth and Brennan entered and found themselves in a long, very wide, pink corridor that bore seven white doors spaced evenly along it.

The first door said RECEPTION STAFF ONLY and just before it was a long window set into the wall.

The black sign above the window said RECEPTION.

There was a woman sitting at the desk, in the room directly behind it.

She was middle aged, with shiny, bobbed black hair and steely blue eyes. She was dressed smartly in the salon uniform – a dark pink shirt dress with a white swan on the pocket.

She had a computer and a telephone beside her as well as a large, thick black book opened in front of her.

"How may I help you?" She said... stiffly.

Booth went over to her with Brennan following behind.

"I'm FBI." He said.

The woman nodded curtly. "I heard you on the intercom."

Booth took out his I.D. "I'm Agent Booth."

He indicated Bones beside him. "This is Doctor Brennan."

"How may I help you?" The woman said again.

For some reason her tone was guarded.

"We need to speak to the owner Mrs Swann?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible." The woman said at once. "Mrs Swann is with her granddaughter today. She is unavailable."

Booth frowned at her unhelpful attitude.

"And you are?" He asked.

"Julia Doulton." She answered. "I'm head of the Welcoming Department here."

"So your the receptionist?" Brennan stated matter-of-factly.

She was not trying to be rude, just honest.

Julia frowned at her.

"I'm the _**head**_ of the Welcoming Department." She stressed again.

Brennan shrugged.

"So head receptionist." She said aloud.

Booth looked at her warningly, cringing at her lack of tact.

Julia sent Brennan a cold look and said curtly. "Why exactly are you here?"

"How do you know I'm not a member?" Brennan asked her, interested to know and not bothered by the other woman's tone.

Julia's answer was automatic and just as cold.

"It's my job to recognise all members. I repeat why are you here?"

She looked at Booth. "This is private property. Law enforcement on the premises sends out the wrong message to our clients."

Booth knew they couldn't anger this woman if they needed her help. He had to smooth things over - and fast.

Stepping in front of Brennan, he flashed Julia a charm smile.

"I'm sorry if that's a problem for you." Booth told her. "Obviously, we don't want to harm this company's reputation in any way but we just need some information. As the Head Recept – er... I mean the Head of the Welcoming Department, I'm sure _**you**_ can help me. You must have lots of authority here."

Julia's eyes remained stony.

Booth decided more flattery was called for.

He lent down and flashed another smile. "I can tell straight away you are a law-abiding citizen Julia... can I call you Julia?"

He didn't wait for a reply but went on.

"I'm conducting an investigation into a crime and as a law-abiding citizen you must be just as anxious as I am to see justice done. So I'm sure you'd let us have a quick look at your appointments book-"

"Absolutely not." Julia said without hesitation.

She slammed shut the thick, black book on her desk and placed her interlocked hands on top of it.

"That information is confidential." She added.

Booth could just make out the word APPOINTMENTS through her fingers.

"I realise that of course," He made sure his voice was understanding. "but it's essential to my investigation that I find out-"

Julia cut him off.

"Do you have a warrant?" She demanded.

Booth faltered.

"Well... er... no but I can -"

"Then I must ask you to leave now."

Booth couldn't give up that easy.

"It's just one appointment we need to see Mrs Doulton, why don't _**you**_ tell us so we-"

Julia's eye's flashed. "It's _**Miss **_Doulton." She corrected, indignant. "And I am forbidden to give out client details."

"But we're not asking you for their details," Brennan spoke up loudly. "We're just asking you to tell us the name of the person who booked on May 15th-"

"Doctor Brennan." Julia cut her off, folding her arms across her chest. "All of our clients are very important people and all of them are regulars here. I cannot give out information relating to their schedules for their own safety-"

"But I'm an FBI Agent!" Booth protested, offended at what she was suggesting.

Julia looked at him.

"Then I'm sure as FBI you can understand the need for privacy when it comes to VIP's."

"VIP's don't have their own set of rules!" Booth protested, losing his temper. "I need that information now!"

"What is all this fuss about?"

A woman had emerged from a door at the far end of the corridor.

As she walked towards them Booth saw she was in her late sixties with lots of white-blonde hair piled high on her head like candy floss.

Her smart suit jacket and skirt were both pink, teamed with a white frilly blouse. She also had hot pink spectacles hanging from a chain around her neck.

Booth was instantly reminded of a flamingo as he looked at her.

But the woman wasn't looking at him.

She was looking at Julia and frowning.

"Julia you know the inner swan needs _**peace**_ to emerge!" She chided loudly, throwing her arms out theatrically.

Julia automatically looked apologetic under the older woman's scolding gaze.

"I'm sorry Mrs Swann but these-"

Booth cut her off as he looked at the older woman.

"_**Your**_ Mrs Swann?" He asked, a little startled.

The woman nodded. "Yes I'm she."

"We were told you were unavailable." Booth said, looking accusingly at Julia but Mrs Swann was nodding.

"I'm always unavailable when I'm teaching my granddaughter."

She looked at him then and announced suddenly. "You're not a member. Why are you here?"

Booth took out his I.D card.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Mrs Swann but I'm Agent Booth with the FBI. It's urgent I see your appointment book as a part of my investig-"

"Well I'm afraid that's not possible." Mrs Swann said at once. Her voice was firm but not as hard as Julia's.

"For the purposes of my investigation I -"

"Agent Booth I'm sorry." Mrs Swann said, looking sincere. "Really I am, but I cannot help you. Our appointment book holds sensitive information regarding the schedules of our clients."

"But I just need to see the name on one appointment." Booth protested.

Mrs Swann was smiling apologetically.

"It would be a breach of trust to divulge that information as well as a breach of security. I'm sorry."

"But I'm not just anybody Mrs Swann, I'm FBI-" Booth started to say but Mrs Swann had stopped listening.

She was looking over Booth's shoulder.

Her attention had been grabbed by Brennan as she moved into her view.

"I know you." Mrs Swann said suddenly, wrinkling her nose. "I've seen you before. Are you a client?"

Brennan shook her head.

Julia spoke up.

"Her name is Doctor Brennan, Mrs Swann, she's with Agent Booth."

Mrs Swann was still frowning.

"Brennan... Brennan..." She muttered to herself. "Where have I seen - oh!"

Her hands flew to her face as she gasped in surprise.

She turned abruptly and rushed into the door beside them, the one marked RECEPTION STAFF ONLY.

She was surprisingly speedy for a woman her age.

Brennan looked at Booth in confusion.

"What-?"

Before she could say anything more Mrs Swann was back, the door flying open again as she came rushing out.

In her hand she held a copy of Bred In The Bone.

Brennan's book.

"It's you, isn't it?" She cried loudly, looking at Brennan in delight. She turned the book over, glancing at the photo on the back cover.

"It_** is **_you! Your Temperance Brennan the novelist!"

"I'd say she's more a writer..." Booth muttered frowning, but he was drowned out by Mrs Swann's excited blabbing.

"I can't believe it! I have to tell you how much I love this book!"

Mrs Swann's arm went around Brennan and she was beaming.

Brennan just looked uncomfortable.

"Thank you Mrs Swann but -"

"It's wonderful! It's fabulous!"

"Well Mrs Swann that's very nice of you to-"

But Mrs Swann was not finished.

"Such a gifted writer! I can't believe your here!"

She had a sudden thought and clapped her hands in delight, taking Brennan's hands in her own. "You_** must**_ become a Swann my Dear!"

Brennan smiled politely.

"I really don't think -"

Mrs Swann ignored this completely.

"Oh you'll love it here!" She gushed enthusiastically. "We treat all our guests like royalty! We have all the best treatments! _**Plus **_the latest almond oil body massage! It's to die for! Our team will have you looking like a supermodel!"

She stopped and chuckled.

"Not that you don't now of course!" She glanced down at the book in her hand.

"This photo is gorgeous but it doesn't do you justice! Such high cheekbones! Your simply stunning my Dear. Don't you think so?"

She had turned to Booth with the last question and caught him off guard.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Mrs Swann didn't seem to notice. She turned back to Brennan, practically bubbling with excitement.

"First of all, I shall give you a _**personal**_ tour of the facility!"

She linked her arm through Brennan's, beaming.

Brennan smiled back politely, then glanced at Booth for help but he just grinned back broadly and folded his arms across his chest.

"I'll show you our exercise room and our styling quarters and our sauna room." Mrs Swann went on. "You simply _**must **_ have a massage while your here and our special pore minimising treatment! Then we'll do a cut and colour for you. Nails! You must have a manicure! Oh yes! You'll love the French manicure we do... it's two coats of silicon to harden and then a bright colour vanish. Pink! You must have pink!"

She held up Brennan hands. "I'll put little swans on your nails! Oh it'll be fabulous! You'll love-"

She paused as she looked up, her gaze now going down the corridor.

"Ladies... ladies. Look who it is!"

Several female heads had poked out of the doors along the corridor, curious about the loud, enthusiastic gushing they had heard from Mrs Swann.

"Temperance Brennan has honoured us with a visit!" Mrs Swann told them, holding up Brennan's book and beaming.

"The writer." She declared, waving the book. "Bred In The Bone. Isn't it wonderful ladies?!"

The women, all dressed in pink robes, made their way curiously towards them.

"Come on! Come on! Come and meet her!"

Mrs Swann's excitement was infectious and Brennan heard various excited mutterings.

"The writer? Really!"

"I read that!"

"She's here? Wow!"

Soon there was a crowd around Brennan.

Women of all different ages [but all very rich] were soon bestowing Brennan with compliments, while she tried hard to smile and look modest and Booth tried hard _not_ to laugh at her obvious discomfort.

In the midst of it all, Mrs Swann's voice was the loudest.

"Gifted writer... arranged the visit myself of course... celebrities always come here... I'd thoroughly recommend the book... I've lent it to everyone I know - Oh!"

She stopped suddenly, letting out a high pitched shriek that made everyone shut up instantly and look at her.

Mrs Swann put her hands to her mouth, her eyes flashed with excitement and she cried. "Eleanor!"

Suddenly she dashed through the crowd and disappeared back through the door at the end of the corridor.

Everyone looked after Mrs Swann in surprise but Brennan and Booth looked at eachother in shock, at the name she had just uttered.

Before they could say anything Mrs Swann was back, but she was not alone.

She was pulling a teenage girl down the corridor.

The girl struggled to keep up with Mrs Swann as the older woman pulled her over to the crowd, blabbing excitedly the whole way.

"It's the writer! You have to meet her! The book you borrowed! She's here!"

While the girl answered back in confusion;

"Gran!... Slow down... What is it...? Gran-"

Even before they came to halt in front of him, Booth recognised the girl's long dark hair and green eyes.

He was looking at Ella Jones.

"Doctor Temperance Brennan" Mrs Swann gushed with pride. "I want you to meet my granddaughter Eleanor."

But Eleanor 'Ella' Jones wasn't looking at Brennan, she was looking at Booth.

"Your that cop from before." She said, frowning. "What are you-?"

"_**You're **_her granddaughter?" Booth interrupted, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Mrs Swann frowned at him. "Yes she is my granddaughter. Is there a problem?"

She sounded annoyed.

Brennan just looked confused as she looked from Booth to Ella and back again.

She could tell by Booth's tone something was up.

She turned to him and asked uncertainty. "Booth? Do you know her?"

"We've met." Booth told Brennan dryly. "You didn't get to meet _**Ella Jones**_ on Saturday,did you Brennan?" He emphasised the girl's name pointedly.

"Ella?" Brennan looked at the girl, understanding dawning on her face. "Your Sarah's best friend?" She asked.

"Yes." Ella was frowning again. "I don't understand-"

"Neither do I." Mrs Swann interrupted crossly, folding her arms across her chest.

She was angry with the way the conversation was going and the fact she and her famous celebrity were no longer the centre of attention for the reasons she wanted.

"Where have you met my granddaughter?" She demanded, looking at Booth.

"I met her while conducting my investigation-" Booth began but Mrs Swann automatically cut off him off, fully aware they were in the middle of a crowd of her clients.

"You don't need to go into that right now." She told him quickly to shut him up.

She turned to Ella and said. "Eleanor, I wanted you to meet the novelist Temperance Brennan, so say hello."

But Brennan didn't give her a chance.

"So your name's Eleanor?" She asked the girl. "Not Ella."

"Yes..." Ella nodded. "Everyone calls me Ella."

"Well _**I **_don't." Mrs Swann interrupted, disapproving.

She was trying her best to shift the conservation back to safe ground in front of their audience.

"Doctor Brennan, perhaps you would sign your book for my granddaughter-?" She asked, holding out a pen but Brennan ignored her.

She had noticed Ella was dressed in the pink shirt dress that bore the Swann Beauty logo on the pocket.

"You work here?" She asked her.

Ella nodded. "Yeah... part time. I'm training to be a beauty therapist."

Mrs Swann jumped in then, her smile didn't quite reach to her eyes. "Come now Eleanor what are you saying?! Your not training. _**Your trained."**_

She looked around her crowd of rich clients, flashing big smiles. "Eleanor's work is fabulous. Such compliments I get! Of course she's been taught by the best!"

Ella ignored her grandmother as well now.

She looked from Brennan to Booth.

"So you work with him?" She asked Brennan.

Brennan nodded slightly. "I'm helping him investigate Sarah's death."

Ella looked at Booth. "Is that why your here? To see me?"

Booth shook his head. "I didn't know you were here. We need to look at-"

"Let's not go into that right now." Mrs Swann interrupted loudly, trying to change the subject again.

"Doctor Brennan I would love you to sign an autograph for my granddaughter." Her voice sounded friendly but this time it was also very firm.

She stood in front of Brennan and actually put the pen into her hand and Bred In The Bone under her nose.

Brennan realised this woman always got what she wanted.

She wrote on her book and Mrs Swann's beaming smile returned.

She clapped her hands in delight. "A picture! We must have a group picture!"

"I don't think-" Brennan began but Mrs Swann cut her off.

"All the Swann ladies gathered around Temperance Brennan the famous novelist! It'll go on the wall in my office!"

She barked at Julia through the reception window. "Julia! Find me a camera. Now! Quickly!"

Julia was off her chair in a second.

Mrs Swann turned back to Brennan and smiled broadly.

"Right then, Temperance Dear you must be in the very front and Eleanor can stand here-"

"Actually Mrs Swann, Brennan and I really must be going-" Booth cut in, expecting Brennan to agree but she surprised him.

"Actually Booth we _**can **_stay for a few minutes." She said pointedly.

He looked at her questioningly.

"But-"

She cut him off.

"Why don't you stand _**over there**_ while we do the photo?" Brennan waved her hand at the reception window.

Booth didn't understand.

"Huh?" He looked back and forth from her to the window.

"Over _**there**_ Booth." Brennan said pointedly, indicating with her eyes. " You know..._"_

Booth looked at the window again and suddenly realised what she was indicating.

The door marked RECEPTION STAFF ONLY was open.

Brennan was annoyed he didn't seem to understand her plan.

"Booth." She burst out bluntly. "I am trying to tell you to-"

Booth interrupted her quickly. "I understand Brennan." He said, so she wouldn't blurt anything out. "I'll stand over there. Out of the way."

As he walked past the window, Julia said. "I found a camera, Mrs Swann."

Unfortunately she thrust the black digital camera into Booth's hands.

"Marvellous." Mrs Swann exclaimed happily.

Booth knew he had to get out of taking the picture.

Booth shoved the camera into Mrs Swann's hand.

"I can't take it." Mrs Swann frowned, trying to hand it back to him. "I'm going to be in it. You must take it for us."

"No!" Booth exclaimed. "I can't."

He shot Brennan a look and Brennan was at his side in an instant, agreeing.

"No! Right, of course Booth can't..."

Mrs Swann looked puzzled. "Why not?" She asked.

Silence

Brennan said the first thing that came into her head.

"He's terrible at taking photo's."

"That's me." Booth agreed, nodding and smiling." Such butterfingers!"

He made a joke slicing motion across his neck.

"Can't take a photo to save my life..." He laughed.

Brennan cleared her throat.

"We... we need someone else to take the photo."

"What about Julia?" Booth suggested at once.

Julia looked stony-faced but Mrs Swann was beaming.

"Yes, Julia come out here!"

Julia got up from her desk and came into the corridor.

Booth quickly handed the camera to her, getting in front of the open STAFF ONLY door so she wouldn't close it again.

"Stand here Julia." Mrs Swann ordered, putting her in front of Booth so she faced away from him.

"Now ladies-"

Mrs Swann gathered her clients around Brennan and made sure she and Ella were in front, on either side of her.

"Right now Ladies! Big smiles! This is going on my wall!"

Brennan glanced at Booth.

He caught her glance and nodded slightly.

He slipped inside the door marked STAFF ONLY.

He heard the click of the camera as Julia took the photo.

He wouldn't have time.

"I'll do photo's with everyone." Brennan announced suddenly, stalling them. "You can take them Julia."

Booth silently sent his thanks to Brennan.

He found himself in the small office behind the reception window.

Booth made straight for Julia's desk and flipped open the thick, black book marked APPOINTMENTS.

He ducked down with it, so nobody would look through the window and see him there.

He quickly turned the pages, looking for the date he wanted.

Through the window, he could hear Mrs Swann's voice giving her encouragement as Brennan had her photo taken over and over again and the delighted laughter of the clients.

All of this was drowned out as Booth found the page he wanted and looked at the list of names under the date headed:

Saturday May 15th.

It was totally filled up with clients who had booked their appointment on that day but it didn't matter because the first one on the list was for 10AM.

Booth was disappointed when he saw the name against the time was unfamiliar:

Client: Mrs Myra Wallace.

But another name underneath it was not:

Assigned Beauty Therapist: Eleanor Jones.


	18. Chapter 17 Meeting Payment

_Author's Note._

_Just to let you guys know, I have made a few minor changes to this story because of feedback that it sounded too English! I have tried to correct as many words as I can so it sounds more American. I can't promise not to do it in future but I will try my best._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. It was all about proving that our duo could work together if they had too. Brennan was reluctant to work with Booth in the first episode, which indicates they didn't get off to a very good start when they met. I think there needed to be point in the very beginning where Booth and Brennan had to work together to achieve something. To at least remind them [when they meet up again in the pilot] that it is possible for them to get along._

_So to recap: _

_Booth and Brennan found out that the person who sent a nasty letter to Sarah, also had an appointment with Swann Beauty on Saturday May 15th – the morning she died. _

_Booth and Brennan went to find out who had that appointment but the owner would not give them the information. By a stroke of luck, Mrs Swann then realised Brennan was the famous writer of Bred In The Bone and Brennan was able to use this to her advantage - distracting everyone so Booth could seek a look at the appointments book... _

_Happy reading :) _

**Chapter 17.**

**Meeting Payment.**

"You owe me."

Temperance Brennan was looking at Booth from the passenger seat of his car and grinning at him in triumph.

They were on their way back to the Jeffersonian.

Booth had listened to her boast like this ever since they left Swann Beauty and he could feel his bad mood returning.

"So you keep saying." Booth remarked, rolling his eyes.

Watching him, Brennan clarified. "Only because it's true."

She turned away from him, still smiling.

"In fact, I'd say you owe me a _big_ favour for what I did back there."

Booth grit his teeth in annoyance.

"I _**think **_what _**you mean**_ to say is,_** thank you **_ Agent Booth for letting me come along today when you didn't _**have **_to." He interrupted.

Brennan laughed.

"You would never have got the name on that appointment if I hadn't been there." She replied.

"I would have got a warrant." Booth retorted bluntly.

"Which would have taken up your precious time when Cullen is already pressuring you to get results." Brennan correctly pointed out, smiling.

"You know what I think? I bet you thought you could just walk right into Swan Beauty, do that dumb..._**charm**_ thing you do and Julia Doulten would tell you anything." She laughed. "Didn't work out very well, did it?"

Booth looked at her.

"What dumb charm thing?" He asked, looking crestfallen.

Brennan laughed again. "You know what I'm talking about. You suddenly turn all smiles simply for the purpose of making everyone melt like... like water."

"I think you mean 'butter'." Booth told her, bristling. "And I do not! If you hadn't insulted Julia's job title she may have been-"

Brennan cut him off.

"If she's insulted by her real job title it's got nothing to do with me." She said, shrugging.

Her face grew serious as she frowned. "Why are people so unwillingly to hear the truth? Julia didn't want to hear it."

She looked at him. "And neither do you."

She smiled. "Admit it, if _**I,**_ - [_she stressed her words_] - the_** famous novelist **_Temperance Brennan, had not come along just now, there's no way you would have gotten the information we need."

There was a pause.

Booth knew she was right but he didn't want to admit it.

"Your not a novelist." He muttered, grumbling. "You're a writer."

He knew it was lame but it was the best retort he had and Brennan knew it.

She laughed.

"That's not what Mrs Swann thought. She was thrilled to have me there. It's thanks to me you got the necessary distraction-"

"It's not as if you had to do any _**work**_." Booth grumbled. "All you had to do was just stand there while those women fussed over you."

"That _**was **_work." Brennan informed him. "Do you know how many books I signed? My phalanges are aching."

She remembered how Mrs Swann had insisted on showing her around the facility and made a face.

"Besides, you didn't have to listen to Mrs Swann talk about ginger body oil and the healing powers of seaweed."

At this, Booth smiled.

"Look on the bright side. At least you have something to show for it."

Brennan raised an eyebrow, questioningly and he grinned in response. "Lifetime Swann membership."

Brennan grimaced. "I'll pass I think."

"Oh come on Bones." Booth relished the opportunity to tease her. "I'm sure you'll love having little swans on your nails. Sounds so _cute_. I just know pink's got to be your colour too."

His grin was huge.

"So this is what they mean when they say I'm getting a taste of my own food..." Brennan commented, frowning.

Booth laughed aloud. "It's _medicine_ Bones. _Taste of your own medicine."_

He smiled at her. "As bad as ginger body oil sounds, you did get something out of this... besides lifetime Swann membership I mean."

"I did?"

"Getting fussed over by lots of wealthy women can't have done your book sales any harm." Booth said seriously.

"My books sales are fine." Brennan replied flatly.

"Even so it's only been out a few weeks right?" Booth said. "The free publicity will do your book good. Besides if you ever_ do_ go back there, at least you know you'll be treated like royalty."

Brennan shrugged.

"It's not my sort of place." She told him.

"You could take Angela then." Booth suggested. "She'd probably be thrilled."

Brennan paused, thinking.

"Well, I must say from undertaking some of Angela's... _hobbies_ in the past I would have to conclude she may enjoy the beauty treatments on offer."

Booth grinned. "Is that your way of saying she made you wear a mud mask during a girlie sleepover?"

Brennan hesitated.

"It was a deep cleansing toner actually." She admitted. "But that's not the point."

She looked at him.

"You _**still**_ owe me for helping you get a look in Julia's appointment book."

Booth sighed, so they were still on this.

"You wouldn't have got the information on your own either." He pointed out honestly. "You would never have got away from Mrs Swann long enough. Look will you be satisfied if I say it was a joint effort?"

Brennan turned to him.

He was smiling _**the charm smile**_ at her.

She laughed.

"Okay I guess." She relented.

Booth breathed a sign of relief until he realised Brennan still wasn't finished.

"But a thank you would be nice."

Booth looked at Brennan.

He realised she wouldn't quit until she had her way, but he also predicted if he gave her what she wanted, he'd never hear the end of it either.

"What about the next best thing?" He asked.

"What's that?"

"I'm glad you came with me."

Brennan smiled, she could live with that.


	19. Chapter 18 Meeting Miss Lovesick

_Author's Note._

_Hi everyone. Sorry about the delays in writing. I've been on holiday for a week. I had a great time but I missed Bones so it's good to be back! _

_Anyway, thanks for all the reviews so far and I hope you enjoy this next chapter._

_To recap:_

_Brennan and Booth went to visit Steve Jennington after discovering he had an affair with the victim Sarah Jenkins._

_Brennan lost her temper during the interview but Booth was the one who paid for it when Steve lodged an official complaint against him. _

_Booth 's boss warned him off interviewing Steve again, at least until he had more evidence. _

_So Brennan and Booth quietly interviewed Steve's wife Helen instead. They wanted to know if she was responsible for sending the victim a threatening message, warning Sarah to 'stay away', but her handwriting didn't match the letter. _

_Now Booth is wondering if Steve actually wrote it himself and his letter of complaint may come in useful after all..._

_Happy reading :) _

_**Chapter 18.**_

_**Meeting Miss Lovesick. **_

When Booth and Brennan arrived back at the Jeffersonian, they found Jack Hodgins at work in the lab, hunched over his desk and squinting into his microscope.

Booth interrupted the entomologist by handing him Steve Jenningtons official letter of complaint.

Booth hoped Steve's handwriting on the letter would be a match for the threatening message Sarah Jenkins had received shortly before her disappearance.

He badly needed some evidence against [_who he saw as_] the number one suspect in her murder.

Hodgins was supposed to take both letters to his pal Gavin, in Graphology, for comparison.

Unfortunately, he had only taken a few steps when he stopped abruptly.

He looked down at Steve's letter of complaint in one hand, then at the threatening message in his other.

Watching him, Booth suddenly had a very _**bad **_feeling.

He almost didn't want to ask.

"Why are you still here?"

Hodgins looked up at Booth.

He _**really**_ didn't want to be the one to give the agent any more bad news – he was already in Booth's bad books after the whole dog hair business earlier in the day - but he didn't really have a choice.

"This doesn't need handwriting analysis." He said, sighing aloud."Steve Jennington did not write this."

He held up the threatening message.

Booth's eyes automatically turned stony.

"_**What?**_" He said, through gritted teeth.

"They don't match." Hodgins declared.

"How do you know that?" Brennan asked, interested. "Let me see."

Hodgins did as she asked. He laid the two pages down, side by side, on his desk, all the while avoiding Booth's eyes.

Brennan leant down, looking first at the threatening letter, then at Steve's complaint.

She spotted what Hodgins had seen straight away.

She looked at Booth, nodding. "He's right. Look."

Booth reluctantly stepped closer and looked down.

The first page, the threatening message Sarah had received, simply read:

_**What would your Daddy think about this? Stay away or you will be sorry.**_

These two sentences had been scrawled on the back of a topless printout of Sarah, then hand delivered to her house.

Sarah had received the threat because Brennan and Booth had found it hidden in her bedroom.

Booth shifted his attention to Steve's letter. It began:

_**Dear Sir,**_

_**I write to you in order to make an official complaint regarding the unacceptable behaviour of one of your employees, Special Agent Seeley Booth. **_

Booth stopped.

He didn't want to read anymore and he didn't have to.

While the styles of both letters _**were **_similar - the handwriting scrawled and close together - there was one noticeable difference between the two that meant they didn't need to perform handwriting analysis.

The writer of the threatening message dotted all the letter 'I's.

Most people did the same thing.

But Steve Jennington was different.

He finished his letter _**'i's**_ with _**actual**_ _**circles, not just dots.**_

Booth looked up.

"Dam it!" He said angrily, running his hand through his hair. "Steve Jennington couldn't have wrote this!"

Another theory bites the dust.

Booth felt annoyed and frustrated.

They just couldn't catch a break!

Brennan unwisely chose that moment to make a comment. "So Steve didn't threaten Sarah to get her to leave him alone like you said, that was inaccurate Booth."

Brennan hadn't meant it as a jibe but Booth took it as one.

"It was just an idea Bones!" He snapped.

"Well I'm just saying you were wrong-" Brennan carried on recklessly.

"I wasn't wrong!" Booth declared, irritated. "It was just an idea! That's what FBI agents do. We... _posit a theory_."

"Well then I suggest you _posit _a better one." Brennan said matter-of-factly. "Steve Jennington obviously didn't kill our victim."

At this, Booth felt his anger rise.

Brennan had said '_the_ _victim'_ instead of Sarah's name.

Why did it sound like she was blaming him for their lack of progress on the case?

But most of all Booth was _**certain**_ of one thing.

"Steve Jennington _**is**_ responsible for _**Sarah's**_ death." He declared, putting extra emphasis on the dead girl's name.

"He didn't write this!" Brennan felt her own annoyance, as she waved the threatening letter in Booth's face. "I keep telling you, your putting too much emphasis on Steve!"

"I don't care if _**Steve **_didn't write this." Booth retorted angrily, as he took the threatening message from her hand, deliberately emphasising each name. "I don't care if _**his wife**_ didn't write this. _**Someone **_Steve knows did! _**Steve is involved!**_"

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Brennan asked, incredulously.

"I-" Booth flung his arms up in frustration. "I just know when I'm right!"

"How could you possibly know that when there's no evidence against him?"

"It's... it's... a feeling Bones."

Brennan frowned, puzzling.

"Is the feeling anger?" She asked seriously. "Because Steve made a complaint against you?"

_She __**did not **__just go there._

"Are you questioning my professionalism?" Booth was outraged. "It's got nothing to do with the complaint! He called Sarah the night she died! He's got motive! And you heard the guy! He's probably got dozens of lovers..."

His voice trailed off as the cogs in his mind started worked frantically.

He looked down at the threatening message in his hand.

"You want a new theory...?" He took a step towards Brennan, looking her in the eye. "Well I just got one." He waved the threatening message at her. "Steve Jennington could not have wrote this but what about another member of his fan club?"

Brennan's eyes widened at what he was implying.

"You think Steve had more than one lover?" She asked.

"And that person wrote the threatening message." Booth finished, nodding. "Yes. Steve's a ladies man. He could have been sleeping with another woman besides Sarah."

Brennan frowned, sceptical. "Who?"

"Myra Wallace for instance?"

Hodgins's pal from Graphology had applied Electrostatic Detection Apparatus [ESDA] to the envelope the threatening letter had come in. He had managed to uncover an imprint of what was written on the envelope before it.

Some cryptic words:

_**SWANN**_

_**05 /15**_

_**10**_

_**ELEANOR.**_

With Angela's help, they had learned this referred to a 10 am appointment, on May 15th, at Swann Beauty, a posh beauticians in town.

Booth and Brennan had just been to Swann Beauty and found out the name of the person who held that appointment: Mrs Myra Wallace.

They had yet to interview her, coming back to the Jeffersonian to give Steve's letter of complaint to Hodgins first.

Now Brennan wondered if Booth was right.

Did Myra Wallace know Steve Jennington? Was she a lover of his?

Then, on the other hand, she could be totally innocent.

"I don't know Booth." Brennan said finally.

Booth said nothing for a minute, his eyes searched hers.

Then he stepped away from her.

"Well it's a theory." He said curtly. "And I don't see _**you **_coming up with any better ones _**Bones.**_"

"_**Don't**_ call me Bones." Brennan said frostily.

There was silence after this. Brennan and Booth glared at each other.

Hodgins [who they had forgotten was still there] looked between the two of them and suddenly cleared his throat.

"Now listen you two I might -"

Booth ignored him, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"I guess you don't want to hear about forensic tests on Sarah's car then?" Hodgins declared loudly.

It worked.

Booth stopped in his tracks.

He turned slowly. "What about Sarah's car?"

Hodgins smiled.

"Your FBI lab sent over a report while you two were out earlier."

Hogdins produced a large brown file. He opened it and pulled out the report and various colour photographs of Sarah's vivid red BMW convertible.

Booth knew Sarah had told her parents she had sold the car. In actual fact, she'd taken it to her best friend Ella's house and hidden it in the garage. Ella and her brother Rob had shown Booth when he interviewed them.

Booth watched as Hodgins laid one photo on top of the others. It was a close-up shot of a nasty - looking scratch in the door.

"They confirmed this isn't an accident." Hodgins said, putting his fingernail against the scratch.

"It measures 30cm long, in the right hand door of Sarah's car. It's been dug into the paintwork. The paints called _**Ruby Sun, **_according to the manufacturer."

Brennan flipped through the rest of the photographs as Hodgins turned to Booth.

"Your lab confirmed the scratch was caused by a key. They suggest a petite, right-handed person, gripping the end of the key at a ten degree angle to the car-"

"Yes, okay, so the car was keyed." Booth rolled his eyes.

"_**Deliberately**_." Hodgins stressed the word.

Booth just nodded, he had already guessed as much when he'd seen the damage himself.

"Anyway..." Hodgins went on. "Your FBI guys brought over Sarah's laptop and some of her things from her bedroom."

Hodgins indicated a few items wrapped in clear plastic evidence bags on his desk.

He'd obviously been studying a few of them when they'd interrupted him.

The pen inscribed with Sarah's name was there, the bumble bee shaped stapler too and some photographs and receipts from the message board.

Brennan also saw a pile of magazines and recognised the top one as the real-life example she had picked up in Sarah's bedroom.

"I had a look through the stuff they sent." Hodgins explained "I couldn't help seeing this..."

He held up a single silver key.

Booth and Brennan both recognised it as the key they had seen hanging on Sarah's message board in her bedroom.

'Jennington Publishing Ltd' was printed on it's side.

"I saw this and I thought I'd check, you know, just in case..." Hodgins trailed off, smiling.

"What did you find?" Booth asked finally, indulging him.

"A tiny speck of paint." Hodgins declared triumphantly. "Only visible under the microscope but-" He stressed the next words, grinning. "_**Red paint. **_To be accurate – a single speck of _**Ruby Sun**_."

Booth frowned. "So _this key_ is the one that was used to scratch Sarah's car?" He clarified.

Hodgins nodded. "Yes."

Brennan looked impressed. "Good work Hodgins."

"So did you find any fingerprints on the key?" Booth asked.

Hodgins smile got bigger.

"That's the really interesting thing. There's fingerprints all over this key... _**but- **_" He stressed the word "-they only belong to one person and I bet you can't guess who _**that**_ person is?"

He gave them a satisfied smile.

Booth and Brennan shared a look before Booth answered him, in shock.

"Don't tell me-"

Hodgins was nodding. "Bingo!"

Brennan looked at Booth.

_"Sarah keyed her own car?"_ She asked, bewildered.

Booth nodded slowly. "Yes... I guess she did."

"That's exactly what it looks like." Hodgins put in.

"But why would she do that?" Brennan said, making a face.

"Just what I was thinking." Booth replied. He looked at her.

"Ella told me Sarah loved her car. Her Dad told us she loved it too. Remember how much he said he paid for it?

Brennan nodded.

"$40,000."

"Yes $40,000. So why would she key it?" Booth shook his head. "It doesn't make sense."

Brennan paused, thinking. "Remember the money we found in Sarah's bedroom? Remember what Steve told us? He said Sarah had told him she'd acquired some money for them to run away together. Didn't he say it was $40,000?"

"Yes he did." Booth agreed. "And that's how much was in the envelope we found in her bedroom."

"Then maybe that's how Sarah got the money." Hodgins put in. "She made an insurance claim on her car."

Booth shook his head. "I doubt it. They'd never pay up $40,000 for a scratch. Besides how would she keep it from her parents?"

"Well I can have Angela check anyway." Brennan offered, looking at Booth. "Just in case."

Booth met her gaze and nodded in reply.

Hodgins wasn't sure but he thought the atmosphere in the room thawed a tiny bit.

"Did I hear my name?"

Everyone looked up as Angela chose that moment to breeze in.

Booth was pleased to see she wasn't carrying any files this time but he asked her anyway.

"Your not here to give me anymore bad news are you?"

Angela looked confused for a second.

"What? I just heard you two were back from Swann Beauty." She said. "How did it go?"

"We got the name of the person who had the Swann Beauty appointment." Booth told her. "A Mrs Wallace."

Angela eyebrows rose. "A new name." She commented.

Booth nodded. "We haven't spoke to her yet."

"We came back here first to give Hodgins the letter of complaint." Brennan added.

"Oh. So did Steve's handwriting match the threatening letter?" Angela enquired.

Booth's shoulders tensed.

Brennan opened her mouth to reply.

Hodgins quickly jumped in, not wanting another argument.

"Don't ask Angela." He said dryly.

Angela frowned. "Oh. I take it that's the first lot of bad news then?" She said, looking at Booth.

Booth sighed. "Steve didn't write it."

Tact had never been Brennan's strong point.

"Booth was wrong about that." She said aloud. "Now he thinks Mrs Wallace was having sexual intercourse with Steve too and she wrote the letter."

Booth looked affronted.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that but-"

Angela interrupted him. "I'd say it was certainly possible from what you've told me about Steve."

Booth stopped.

Brennan stared at Angela.

Neither of them had expected her to agree so quickly.

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Steve sounds like the type of guy who'd need to have more than one woman to satisfy his ego." She explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if this Wallace lady was another notch on his bedpost."

"Thanks Angela." Booth said finally, smiling at her and sending Brennan a smug look.

Brennan frowned. She quickly turned away from him and tried to change the subject.

"Angela, could you check to see if Sarah made any insurance claims before she died?"

Angela shrugged.

"Yeah sure sweetie. What makes you think she did?"

Brennan held up the photograph of the scratch on the red BMW.

"Sarah did _**this**_ to her own car."

"Whoa..." Angela let out a low whistle as she took the photo from Brennan. "I thought you said she loved her car."

"Yes." Brennan nodded. "But she also had some irrational idea that she and Steve were going to run away together and she needed money. She could have damaged her car to make an insurance claim."

Angela shook her head instantly.

"That would never work. If she did that she must have been _**really **_love-sick."

She put the photo back down on Hodgins's desk and her attention was grabbed by the other item's that were on it.

"Hey, is this Sarah's stuff?" She asked.

"Yeah it is." Hodgins nodded.

Angela's hand went straight to the magazine pile.

"Good taste." She commented, picking up the first magazine on the stack. "I read this."

She looked at Booth.

"I've got her laptop in my office." She informed him. "She's got passwords on most of her documents. She was also on the internet frequently but she's deleted the history. I'm trying to recover it but it seems she knew her way round a computer."

Booth looked thoughtful.

"Well I suppose if she and Steve were sharing love messages she'd have to stop her parents from seeing them wouldn't she?" He deduced. "Try your best Angela."

Angela smiled at him. "I will Booth."

She looked down and started thumbing through the magazine pile. "Maybe a little light reading might help my concentration..."

"That's evidence remember?" Booth told her in disapproval.

But Angela was no longer listening.

"Wait a minute." She said suddenly, looking down at a gardening magazine she had unearthed. "Good taste?"

She pulled a disgusted expression.

"Gardening Gold? I don't _**think**_ so."

"That's probably her father's." Booth said. "Mr Jenkins said Sarah kept taking his magazines."

"Hmmm..." Angela's face suddenly turned knowing as she looked down at the magazine. "I wonder if Steve likes gardening..."

She smiled pointedly at Booth.

"I think I'm with you on this Booth." She concluded as she returned it to the pile. "This Wallace lady may be involved with Steve in some way. It's possible they could be doing the horizontal mambo."

"Thanks Angela." Booth smiled gratefully.

"I suppose we're off to visit Myra Wallace then." Brennan sighed, defeated.

Angela looked at her.

"Did you say Myra?"

"Yes..." Booth was the one who answered. "You don't know her too, do you?" He added hopefully, thinking of how she'd known about Swann Beauty. She had the same thoughtful look on her face.

"The name's ringing bells." Angela admitted. "Myra... Myra Wallace... Myra Wallace. Oh! I know. My Dad used to talk about her."

She laughed as she remembered. "He fancied her."

Brennan, Booth and Hodgins all looked at her questioningly.

"Your Dad?" Brennan frowned.

"Myra's a model." Angela explained. "It was a long time ago though if it's the same woman. My Dad wanted to go out with her but she only dated men with huge muscles."

She stopped and looked at Booth, grinning.

"She would have loved you Booth."

Booth laughed at this. "Thanks Angela."

Brennan frowned. "Angela, focus please."

Angela smiled at her. "That's all I remember really. Though I do know she was more famous for her love life than for her modelling... a different man every week."

"She sounds like a female version of Steve Jennington." Booth commented, smiling.

Angela laughed.

"Hmmm kind of. I suppose they could be seeing each other." She thought aloud. "She'll be older than him. In her fifties now but it's possible. She was very beautiful. I suggest you go and ask her."

She stopped and grinned.

"Just make sure _**Mr **_Wallace isn't around."


	20. Chapter 19 Meeting The Twist

_Author's Note._

_Thanks for all the reviews._

_To recap:_

_The murdered body of Sarah Jenkins was found by a river in Welding's Park. _

_The prime suspect Steve Jennington, made a complaint against Booth, after Brennan lost her temper during their interview with him. _

_The duo have been forced to hunt elsewhere for evidence, before they can talk to him again._

_A threatening message was delivered to Sarah's home, shortly before she died. _

_The duo managed to get an imprint from the envelope it came in. It referred to a 10 AM appointment on May 15__th__ at Swann Beauty. _

_Booth and Brennan paid a visit to the salon and discovered a lady called Myra Wallace held that appointment, on that day. _

_Booth thinks Mrs Wallace may be having an affair with Steve Jennington and she sent the threatening message to Sarah._

_Brennan is not so sure but they are about to find out..._

_It's a long one guys, but hang in there, cos it's worth it in the end, I promise. _

_Happy reading :) _

**Chapter 19**

**Meeting The Twist.**

It started raining just as Brennan and Booth pulled up outside the home that Myra Wallace shared with her husband, Julian.

"Jeez, look at this place." Booth commented, as they got out of the car.

Gazing up at the property, he was once again reminded of money – mainly his lack of it.

The Wallace residence was an incredibly grand, white mansion, that was shaped like the letter 'c.'

The huge building had far too many windows - indicating there was at least a dozen bedrooms inside.

A huge balcony over the front door was held up by two marble pillars and carved with a emblem – the letter 'W' with a rose behind it.

The garden was just as impressive. It was the size of a football pitch, with a red-brick wishing well standing in it's centre. A yellow-brick road spiralled outwards from it and eventually split in two. One pathway led up to the front door of the mansion and the other one went down to the iron gates at the bottom of the property.

The spiralled path was bordered on both sides by so many vibrant flowers it was hard not to think of a rainbow when you looked at it.

The Wallace's appeared to be even richer than the Jenningtons, which made Booth start to feel rather uneasy.

People with money always thought it gave them the right to be treated differently to those without it, even if they _were_ criminals.

Mrs Wallace, may, or may not, be involved in the murder, but either way she could provide important information to the case – providing nobody said the wrong thing to her.

Remembering Brennan's previous track record with suspects, Booth felt even less confident.

His decision to allow her to come and interview Mrs Wallace with him, suddenly seemed foolish.

Angela had described Mrs Wallace as not being unlike Steve Jennington and Brennan's last encounter with_** him **_had not ended well, especially for Booth.

The last thing Booth needed was another complaint on his file.

_No T__hank You_.

Short of asking Brennan to wait in the car... which he rejected pretty quickly because he had no intention of getting an earful from her, Booth felt he had no choice but to remind Brennan of the seriousness of the situation one more time.

"Don't forget to watch what you say when we get inside." He told her, as they made their way up the long path to the front door. "Your only here on the condition you behave yourself and do as I say."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Yes yes, you've already said." She replied, somewhat stiffly.

She was annoyed that, as the best in her field, people never told her what to do but Booth seemed to enjoy it.

Seeing the look on her face, Booth was even more determined to get through to her.

"This interview is very serious Bones, which means-"

"Stop calling me Bones." She interrupted at once, rolling her eyes.

"_**Which means **_not interrupting me, whatever I say." Booth retorted heatedly. "_**And**_?"

He looked at her, expecting an answer, but Brennan just glared at him.

"Booth, the rain, we're getting wet-" She said finally, in an attempt to distract him but Booth was just as stubborn as she was.

"_**Come on**_ Bones... what did I say in the car?... _**And what**__?_"

Brennan knew perfectly well what he wanted her to say.

He'd already given her a lecture in the car on the way over and was now expecting her to recite it all back for his benefit, like she was a ventriloquists dummy instead of a world famous anthropologist.

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him.

"You're being patronising, you know." She declared frostily.

"_**Bones just say it!**_" Booth looked her in the eye, refusing to back down.

Temperance Brennan was used to getting her own way but she found the heat of Booth's gaze more than she could handle.

"Oh all right!"

She refused to look at him as she recited in a bored tone:

"I will do everything you say... I will listen to you... agree with you... only speak when spoken to and keep my ears open..."

She frowned.

"Which is an inaccurate expression because the ears are _always_ open to allow sound waves to penetrate into the ear drum and the -"

"Okay okay." Booth stopped her mid sentence, rolling his eyes. "You don't need to go into that."

"Happy now?" Brennan declared grumpily, eyes flashing.

At her annoyed expression, Booth couldn't resist a satisfied grin.

He turned away from her and knocked on the Wallace's front door.

"You forgot the part about blurting things out..." He reminded her, failing to hide his amusement.

Brennan frowned at him.

"I do not!" She protested at once.

Booth smiled at her.

"I thought you were supposed to be agreeing with me?"

"I do not blurt things out!" Brennan repeated, hotly.

"You do. I've noticed. You have this tendency to blurt things out, without thinking first."

"That's an impossibility." Brennan was quick to retort. "All speech requires thought from the cerebrum-"

"Fine whatever." Booth rolled his eyes. "The point is we have to be tactful here Bones. You can't just say whatever you want because if you say the wrong thing and Mrs Wallace clams up..."

He looked at her and seeing the annoyed look on her face, sighed.

"Look, I'm only saying all this stuff because I want Mrs Wallace to talk to us, but that's not going to happen if you - you offend her job title or … slam her into desks okay? Can you please just be careful? That's all I ask."

Brennan looked at him.

"Fine." She grumbled. "I'll be careful."

"_Really, really_ careful." Booth added, smiling.

"Booth!" Brennan scowled. "I said I'll be careful okay? But I do not blurt out whatever comes into my-"

She was interrupted when somebody opened the front door.

The woman standing there was in her early fifties, tall and very thin, with short, caramel-blonde hair. Her dark blue eyes were ringed by lashings of black mascara and her lips and nails were painted red.

She was wearing a purple blouse and high-waisted, navy blue trousers.

"Are you Mrs Myra Wallace?" Booth asked her.

"Yes. Who wants to know?" She replied, in a bored tone.

Booth took out his I.D card.

"My name is Agent Booth -" He began but Mrs Wallace didn't let him finish.

"Well I must say it's about time!" She interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Booth and Brennan exchanged confused looks.

"Excuse me?" Booth said questioningly, but Mrs Wallace seemed to think he was apologising.

"Well that's not good enough!" She declared. "It shouldn't take this long to send someone over. I shall be making a complaint about this-"

Booth did not like her use of the word 'complaint' at all and neither, it appeared, did Brennan.

"A complaint? About what?" She retorted, too loudly.

Booth frowned at her but Mrs Wallace just looked startled that Brennan had interrupted.

"The report!" She squawked, flapping her arms. "I know it's just a laptop but-"

She stopped abruptly mid-sentence.

Mrs Wallace looked first at Booth, then at Brennan.

It occurred to her they had no idea what she was talking about.

"You're not here about the laptop?" She asked, suddenly deflating.

Booth handed her his I.D.

"Mrs Wallace, I'm Agent Booth with the FBI. This is Doctor Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute. I'm afraid we're not here to talk to you about a laptop."

The last thing Booth had wanted to do was upset Mrs Wallace before they'd even begun the interview but her reaction was not favourable.

"Well this is just preposterous!" She declared, looking even more annoyed. "Is anyone actually interested in stopping crime?! No wonder thieves think they can get away with it! Where are my tax dollars going...?! Lulu! Come back here!"

A tan and white Yorkshire terrier had suddenly scuttled past Mrs Wallace and out the open front door. It sniffed at Booth's shoes and wagged it's tail hopefully.

"Lulu! In!" Mrs Wallace commanded the little dog firmly and it scuttled back in at once, it's tail between it's legs.

Mrs Wallace returned her attention to the duo with a sour look on her face and Booth knew he had to do something to get her on side or she'd start ranting again.

"Mrs Wallace please let me tell you how very sorry we are to hear of the... er... problems you've been having..." He began, choosing his words carefully. "As an _**FBI agent **_[_he made sure to stress that part_] I don't normally deal with a... stolen laptop is it? But I think for _**you **_I would be willing to hear about it. It goes without saying all crime is important and the people that report it are upstanding members of the community. They should be listened to."

Booth smiled his best charm smile at Mrs Wallace and prayed that Brennan, who was eyeing him confusedly, wouldn't open her mouth.

Mrs Wallace looked at him hard, with guarded eyes, trying to decide if he was genuine.

Finally she gave a curt nod.

"I suppose you may come in then." She said.

Booth couldn't have been more relieved as he and Brennan followed Mrs Wallace inside the mansion.

They found themselves standing in a porch – only one that was the size of most people's kitchen's.

It looked more like a cloakroom.

Along one wall ran nothing but a long, straight line of coat pegs.

Along the opposite wall ran a huge shoe rack that held a vast number of designer shoes.

Above the shoe rack ran three shelves. The lowest shelf held several pairs of gloves, the shelf above that held two hats and the highest shelf held nothing but a long, sleek black umbrella with a shiny silver handle.

Mrs Wallace looked at them, noticing the raindrops on both of their clothes.

"Hang up your coats." She ordered. "And take off your shoes. I detest mud on my floor."

Booth and Brennan did as she asked.

Mrs Wallace looked at them.

"We can talk in the office I suppose." She said and led them out of the porch, past the first two doors in her hallway and headed for the door marked with a rose emblem and the letter 'W'.

She opened the door and Brennan and Booth followed her inside the office.

It was a large and spacious room with dark wood panelling across the walls. The floor was wooden too and it would have been very dark, if not for the large window at the back of the room.

Three mahogany desks were positioned underneath the window, all with black leather swivel chairs beside them. Various writing materials - pens, pencils, envelopes and piles of paper - occupied the desk tops, and a telephone completed each one.

A grey metal filing cabinet was positioned out-of-the-way in the corner of the room and a grey printer was camouflaged on top of it.

The nearest half of the room was a bit less office-like.

A large black leather couch and matching armchair were positioned beside a roaring fireplace. There was a cabinet directly beside the armchair and a fluffy white rug beside the fire was being used as a blanket by three Yorkshire terriers [not counting the one from earlier]. They all appeared to be dozing happily and paid no attention at all when the trio entered.

Mrs Wallace led them over to the leather couch and Booth and Brennan sat down on it, while she sat herself on the armchair.

Booth could not help noticing a black laptop sitting on the nearest desk, as he sat down.

He was anxious to get on with the interview and had no desire to hear about the theft of something as mundane as a laptop but he also knew they would have to be patient if they wanted to get the real information they came for.

"So Mrs Wallace..." Booth said. "Why don't you tell me about the laptop?"

"Well it was stolen of course." Mrs Wallace stated bluntly.

If that meant humouring her, then so be it.

Booth smiled politely. "I meant why don't you tell us how it came to be stolen?"

Mrs Wallace saw his eyes fall on the black laptop behind her.

"That's new." She explained. "My husband can't go without a laptop for work. Computers are everywhere these days."

"Was the stolen one the same make?" Booth asked her nicely.

Mrs Wallace shook her head. "God no. Why would we get the same one again if we could get better?"

She gestured over her shoulder. "That's the very latest model. Only came out this month. Huge memory. Gigantic storage... my husband knows all the terms - RAM, bites, whatever - but there's no chance anyone can hack into that... it's the very best..." She declared, rather smugly.

"Actually Mrs Wallace -" Brennan started to say "All computers are susceptible to viruses depending on-"

Booth immediately cut her off, sending Brennan a warning look. "Of course it's the best."

He smiled at Myra.

"I totally agree with you Mrs Wallace."

Mrs Wallace looked at him... studying him... and then nodded slowly.

"Yes well... the stolen one was still very expensive." She muttered.

"Did the stolen laptop belong to you or your husband?" Booth asked

"It's Julian's." Mrs Wallace answered with a wave of her arm. "He uses it for his business."

"So when was it actually stolen?"

Mrs Wallace looked annoyed.

"_Over_ three weeks ago now." She huffed. "My husband reported the theft and no one has even _bothered _to ask us about it in all this time."

Booth went to apologise again but Mrs Wallace continued quickly.

"It's not the cost of course." She felt compelled to add. "It's the principal of the thing. Some young thug thinks it's okay to rob from people like us."

She made a disgusted face.

"So you actually saw the thief?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace shrugged.

"No I wasn't there." She said. "My husband saw everything. He's the one who reported it but he told me of course."

"Where was it stolen from?"

"His car. When he was in town. He just parked it for a second and some little half-breed ran off with it."

"They didn't take anything else?"

"No but what does that matter? It's still a crime." Mrs Wallace said hotly. "My husband was upset. It's the principal."

"Of course Mrs Wallace." Booth agreed, nodding.

At the mention of her husband's name, Booth asked an important question.

"So... hmm... where _**exactly**_ is your husband now?" He tried to sound casual.

Mrs Wallace shrugged. "He's gone out... went for a walk."

Her gaze fell on the window and she noted the raindrops on the glass.

She smiled slightly.

"Shame about the weather... he really hates the rain."

Booth was anxious that if Julian Wallace didn't like the rain he could be back any minute and it would be much more difficult for Mrs Wallace to talk freely in front of him.

"Well... anyway... we're very sorry to hear about the theft of course." Booth said, eager to change the conversation while pacifying her about the theft. "I've think I've got all I need here. I'll pass this information on to someone on the force. I'll _personally_ make sure the theft is investigated."

"Well that's a start." Mrs Wallace sighed.

"So anyway..."

There was a pause.

Booth wondered where to begin but Mrs Wallace was a shrewd woman.

"Why are you here then?" She asked, looking from Booth to Brennan and back again. "You said you didn't come about the laptop."

Booth knew it was important to get Mrs Wallace talking as quickly as possible but he also thought she required a _softly, softly_ approach.

"Mrs Wallace, do you know Swann Beauty?" He asked casually.

Mrs Wallace's whole demeanour instantly changed.

"Of course I do!" She nodded enthusiastically, all smiles. "I've been going there for the last ten years."

"So you know the owner?"

"Of course." Mrs Wallace kept nodding. "Wonderful woman, Mrs Swann."

"How well do you know her?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace beamed. "We're very good friends Thelma and I. How could we not be? We have such a lot in common-"

She paused, suddenly looking unsure.

"You can't be here about Thelma..." She muttered, sounding uncertain. "She _is_ all right isn't she?"

"Yes yes." Booth was quick to reassure her. "It's nothing to do with Thelma... Mrs Swann is fine. We saw her not so long ago, in fact..."

_Try a few hours._

Booth had a sudden thought and wondered if it would help Mrs Wallace to open up to them.

He indicated Brennan sitting beside him. "Dr Brennan here, she's a friend of Mrs Swann's too."

Brennan looked at Booth, wondering why he was suddenly involving her in the conversation as he added. "She has lifetime Swann membership."

Mrs Wallace looked at Brennan. "Do you?" She seemed very surprised. "I've not seen you there before... lifetime membership is usually only reserved for high-profile clients-"

"Brennan's here's famous." Booth explained, smiling encouragingly at Bones.

"Are you?" Mrs Wallace looked shocked again. "Really?... Are you a model?"

Brennan looked uncomfortable.

"I'm a forensic anthropologist. I'm celebrated in my field but I'm not really fame-"

Booth cut her off.

"She's a famous author. Bred In The Bone..." He looked at Mrs Wallace. "Have you read it?"

"No..." Mrs Wallace shook her head, looking thoughtful. "But if Mrs Swann says... I'll definitely make a point to read it then."

Booth had hoped announcing Brennan as a fellow Swann, may have thawed Mrs Wallace's attitude towards them. It appeared to have worked because she looked at Brennan and smiled warmly, suddenly sounding more like Mrs Swann herself.

"Well... I'm sure you'll just love being a Swann. I wouldn't be without my weekly appointment. Have you had the almond oil massage yet?... It's wonderful and the pore minimising masks..." She touched her cheeks. "Fabulous for the skin... after one treatment I got asked to do Vogue, you know..."

She flushed.

"Not that I would of course... my modelling days are well and truly over..." She cleared her throat, suddenly sounding less confident. "Did... um... Mrs Swann happen to mention I was a model at all?"

She was looking at Brennan.

Brennan glanced at Booth for help.

Booth subtlety indicated she should nod, knowing this would please Mrs Wallace.

Brennan complied and Mrs Wallace seemed delighted.

Beaming, she indicated the large cabinet beside them. It was wooden, with see-through doors and crammed full of trophies, rosettes and framed photographs.

Mrs Wallace lent over and removed one of the pictures in front.

"This is me." She said, smiling fondly at it.

Mrs Wallace held out the photograph to Brennan. She was a lot younger, blonder and fresher-faced in the picture but it was still Mrs Wallace.

"This is from the first magazine cover I did... I got signed up as a model when I was twelve and I never looked back." She appeared lost in thought for a moment. "I had the best time... going to parties... getting photographed for all the best magazines... I even got a part in a film... I met my husband at a showbiz party you know... I fell instantly in lust... so I ruined all of it by marrying him."

She looked up at them, realising what she had just said and looking sheepish, smiled ruefully. "I mean... I just miss the glitz and the glamour... People were always asking for my autograph..."

A thought suddenly popped into Booth's head and he seized the opportunity to get something he needed and to stop her from blabbing.

"Speaking of autographs..." Booth began and he glanced at Brennan. "Dr Brennan and I have a friend who would love one."

Mrs Wallace looked shocked.

So did Brennan.

"Really?" They both said at the same time and looked at each-other.

Booth laughed, trying to cover for Brennan's confusion, as he told Mrs Wallace.

"She joking of course." He turned to Brennan and said pointedly. "_Your friend_ remember?"

Brennan didn't get it.

"What friend?" She frowned.

Booth looked her in the eye.

"_Remember_ Brennan? Didn't Angela say she wanted an autograph for her father?" He prodded.

Brennan still didn't get it.

"Angela didn't say that. She just said-"

Booth quickly interrupted her. "Don't you think Angela would be very grateful to you Brennan, if you got her father an autograph? If Mrs Wallace would be so kind of course..."

Brennan looked at Booth and finally appeared to understand what he was getting at.

"Yes your right... if Mrs Wallace would agree."

Brennan smiled weakly at the other woman.

Mrs Wallace looked quite pleased with herself.

"Well..." She muttered, slightly embarrassed. "I hardly ever give them out any more... but for a fellow Swann..."

She beamed. "I'd be happy too... I'll need a pen and some paper though."

The office desks were littered with writing materials.

Booth quickly leant over to the nearest one and took a pen from it's holder and a piece of paper from a stack on the desk.

When Booth looked down at the page though, he saw it wasn't blank, but monogrammed with the same rose emblem as on the door of the office. _Wallace Wonderlands Ltd_ was printed beside the rose.

"No... you can't you use that..." Mrs Wallace said, shaking her head. "That's all company headed paper."

She got up, went over to the printer and opened it's paper tray. She pulled out a piece of paper and sat back down.

"What would you like me to write?" She asked Brennan, accepting the pen from Booth that he saw was also monogrammed with the company's name and logo.

"What about Dear Angela's Daddy?" Booth suggested.

Mrs Wallace frowned.

"Really?" She asked.

Booth thought fast.

"That way Angela is mentioned too." He explained.

Mrs Wallace seemed satisfied with this explanation. "Oh okay... anything else?"

Booth thought about what else was written on the threatening message Sarah Jenkins had received:

_**What would your Daddy think about this? Stay away or you will be sorry.**_

He thought fast.

"How about '_I think your my greatest fan... Sorry we didn't meet in person. Hope you love this_'_.'_" He suggested.

Mrs Wallace frowned at him.

"Are you sure that's what you want me to write?" She asked, looking sceptical.

Brennan was quick to help him. "Yes Booth that sounds perfect."

She looked at Mrs Wallace and smiled again. "I think Angela's Dad would be thrilled."

Mrs Wallace looked unconvinced but she muttered. "Well if you say so..."

She leant down and begun to write but Brennan stopped her almost immediately, looking at the pen in her hand.

"Your left handed?" She asked suddenly, glancing at Booth.

Gavin from Graphology had said the threatening message was written by a right-handed person.

Mrs Wallace nodded. "Yes... why?"

"Er... nothing..." Brennan shrugged.

"Brennan's left-handed too." Booth lied quickly, to cover for her. "Another thing you have in common!"

Mrs Wallace smiled. "Quite..."

She did as they asked and wrote on the page:

_**Dear Angela's Daddy, **_

_**Angela thinks your my greatest fan. Sorry I didn't meet you in person but I hope you love this. **_

_**Best Wishes. **_

_**Myra Rose Wallace.**_

"Hmm... well there you go."

Mrs Wallace handed the autograph [and the pen] straight to Brennan.

"Thank you Mrs Wallace..." Brennan said, as she accepted it. "This will make my friend really happy."

Booth nodded.

"Sure will." He agreed. "Hmm... Mrs Wallace... I wonder, could I trouble you for a glass of water?"

Mrs Wallace looked at him, surprised, but Booth smiled _the charm smile._

"Dry throat." He explained apologetically, touching his throat for extra emphasis.

Mrs Wallace shrugged.

"Well... I suppose I could... I'll just be a second."

She got up and disappeared out the door.

As soon as she had gone, Brennan looked at Booth, frowning.

"Very subtle." She remarked, not just referring to the water."Why can't we just ask her straight out about the message?"

Booth rifled through his pockets trying to find it.

He had come prepared for the interview having brought the threat, as well as some other things with him.

"FBI interview techniques Bones." Booth replied in a exasperated tone. "If Mrs Wallace likes you we're more likely to get what we want because you have something in common with her. Besides Mrs Wallace seems clever and I'd rather have a _**natural **_sample of her handwriting..."

He located the envelope he was looking for, pulled out the threatening message from it and laid it out flat on his lap. "Now give me that," He said, holding his hand out for the autograph. "She'll be back any second."

As Brennan handed it over Booth remembered something.

"Oh by the way, that thing you promised? You know, about _**agreeing**_ with me?" He rolled his eyes. "That's always helpful..."

"It's not my fault!" Brennan protested straight away. "If you don't make your intentions clear how am I supposed to understand-"

Booth shook his head as he cut her off.

"You're still not agreeing with me and she'll still be back any second. Now is _not_ the time."

His voice was firm.

"You brought it up-"

"Brennan!" Booth glared at her.

Brennan bit her tongue, annoyed, as Booth laid the message and the autograph out side by side, on his lap.

They both leant over to compare the handwriting.

"It doesn't match." Brennan said, almost at once.

And she was right.

The two sets of writing were similar but Mrs Wallace's autograph was much more spaced out and far neater, than the threatening message. The words that were common in both on the letter's – _'Daddy', 'think', 'your' _and_ 'this'_- did not match up at all.

"Dam..." Booth couldn't hide his disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair. "This keeps happening!"

"Shall we go?" Brennan asked at once, starting to rise but Booth's next words stopped her.

"No, not yet."

"But if she didn't write it-"

Booth looked at Brennan.

"Look, " He said seriously and his tone told her not to argue.

"_Somehow _Mrs Wallace's appointment at Swann beauty appeared on _**this**_ envelope used to send _**this**_ threatening message to Sarah." He indicated both the threatening message and the envelope it came in. "Since we're here I would at least like to know why."

Mrs Wallace chose that moment to come back into the room.

Booth quickly stuffed the threatening message, the envelope and the autograph into his pocket, out of sight.

In one hand, Mrs Wallace held Booth's water.

In the other hand she was holding Lulu, the tan and black Yorkshire terrier from earlier.

"Here you go." She handed the water to Booth and sat down on the armchair again, stroking the little dog on her lap.

Booth decided to get down to business.

"Mrs Wallace, you may have seen on the News that a girl's body was found in Welding's Park on Saturday morning." He began.

Mrs Wallace nodded. "Yes I saw it... dreadful of course." She added automatically,but her tone was indifferent.

"I'm investigating the case with Dr Brennan here." Booth indicated Brennan beside him. "Her name was Sarah. Sarah Jenkins. Did you know her?"

Mrs Wallace shook her head straight away. "No... of course not. Why would I?"

Booth ignored this.

He took a small photo from his jacket and handed it to her.

"You don't know this girl?"

It was a photograph of Sarah. Booth had taken it from the files Angela had given him, when the girl's remains had been identified.

Mrs Wallace shook her head again.

"No... I'm sorry."

"Look closely Mrs Wallace." Booth persisted.

"I said I don't know her." Mrs Wallace sounded confused. "Why do you think I do?"

Booth ignored this as well, trying a different tactic.

"How about Steve Jennington? Do you know him?"

"Who?"

Booth frowned.

"Steve." He repeated. "Steven Jennington."

"He owns Jennington Publishers." Brennan put in helpfully, but Mrs Wallace still shook her head.

"I'm sorry I've never heard of him."

Booth took out another small photo and handed it to her.

This time it was a close-up shot of Steve Jennington. Booth had taken it from his company's website. Steve was smiling widely in the shot.

"This man? Do you recognise him from anywhere?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace looked down at the photo but she didn't need to look for very long.

"I've never seen him before." She declared.

Booth's heart sank.

Was she lying?

She appeared calm and relaxed, maintaining eye contact with them, as she stroked her dog.

"So you don't know him at all?" Booth pressed. He couldn't stop himself. He was so sure Myra Wallace had to know Steve. "You've never been to Jennington Publishers?... you don't know his wife Helen?

"Agent Booth." Mrs Wallace sounded exasperated. "I've already told you, I have no idea who he is."

She handed Booth the photo back. "What's he done?"

Booth ignored her.

"Can you tell me where you were on May 15th of this year?"

Mrs Wallace frowned at that, raising an eyebrow.

"Why does that sound like an accusation?" She asked, finally sounding annoyed.

Before Booth could answer Brennan spoke up. "Actually, the word '_accusation'_ is defined as a declaration of fault or blame and since Booth did not declare anything-"

Booth interrupted her with a warning look.

He turned back to Myra. "Please just answer the question Mrs Wallace."

Mrs Wallace stared at him, then shrugged. "Fine...okay... May 15th? I had a Swann Beauty appointment in the morning... then I was on a plane for the show."

"Show?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace expression changed as she looked down, smiling adoringly, at the dog in her lap.

"Lulu here won first place... didn't you my darling?" She cooed.

The dog licked her hand in response.

"You were at a dog show?" Brennan said, looking at Booth.

Mrs Wallace nodded.

"Yes in New York. Very prestigious you know. Of course I knew Lulu would win. The other dogs were nothing in comparison... just look at her... " She held the dog's head still. "See that? Perfect bone structure.. classic to the breed-"

Booth interrupted her. "Okay... so what time was your plane flight?"

"10 O clock at night. The show started on the Sunday but we flew out the night before." She looked up. "And before you ask, yes, it took off on time... for once." She added with a roll of her eyes.

"Is there anything that will confirm this?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace shrugged.

"Check the hotel where we stayed. The Logfire Lodge. My husband booked it. He always comes with me. He doesn't really care for dogs but for me..."

She smiled and then remembered something else.

"Oh there's this too."

Mrs Wallace opened the door to the cabinet again and took out a rosette from the many displayed inside.

"This is Lulu's."

She handed Booth the bright red badge with a ribbon hanging from it.

Booth read the words printed across the front, with Brennan looking over his shoulder:

NEW YORK DOG SHOW

SUNDAY MAY 16TH – SUNDAY MAY 23RD 2005.

1ST PLACE CHAMPION.

**AWARDED TO:**

_LULU_

_COMPETITION TITLE: LOUISA LIONESS HEART IN TINY. _

_YORKSHIRE TERRIER._

_TERRIER GROUP._

_OWNED AND TRAINED BY MYRA ROSE WALLACE._

CONGRATULATIONS.

Booth was dimly aware Mrs Wallace was talking.

"Lulu's my champion aren't ya baby? Mummies little star..."

Mrs Wallace was cooing over her dog and it was quite strange to watch. She didn't seem like the motherly type but she was talking to the dog like it was a child.

"You're my beautiful girl aren't you?"

She turned to Booth and said. "Lulu's won lots of awards you know. They're mostly all her rosettes in there... I've gone all over the country to dog shows with her... she's worth it."

As she smiled lovingly down at her terrier, Booth looked at Brennan, wondering if she was thinking the same thing he was.

Mrs Wallace's handwriting didn't match the threatening letter. Now she was on a flight to New York at the time Sarah went out to meet her killer.

She couldn't have anything to do with Sarah's death.

So how did her appointment at Swann Beauty come to be on the envelope used to send Sarah the threatening message?

Booth decided he had no choice but to ask her straight.

From his pocket, he withdrew the envelope bearing only Sarah's name and held it out to Mrs Wallace.

"Mrs Wallace, have seen this before?"

Mrs Wallace looked down at it.

"It's an envelope." She declared dumbly, looking confused as to it's importance.

Booth nodded.

"Yes Mrs Wallace but this envelope was used to deliver a threatening message to Sarah Jenkins, the murdered girl. Do you know what Electrostatic Detection Apparatus is?"

Mrs Wallace shook her head at once, her eyes blank.

"Sometimes when you write on a sheet of paper you leave an impression on the one underneath." Booth explained. "We found an impression on _this_ envelope."

He produced the ESDA imprint and handed it to her.

Mrs Wallace looked down at it.

_**SWANN **_

_**10**_

_**5 / 15**_

_**Eleanor.**_

"We're certain the 'Swann' stands for Swann Beauty" Booth explained. "The '10' and the '5/15' applies to an appointment. _**Your**_ appointment Mrs Wallace."

She looked at him.

"Did you write this?" Booth asked her bluntly.

Mrs Wallace glanced down and wet her lips.

"Is this what your here for?..." She asked.

Booth was annoyed that she hadn't answered his question.

"Mrs Wallace-"

He stopped abruptly when she smiled at him.

"This is just a misunderstanding." Mrs Wallace laughed. "I didn't write this."

"You didn't?" Booth asked.

Mrs Wallace shook her head.

"No... oh this is all so silly!" She exclaimed.

She saw the confusion on both Booth and Brennan's faces and tried to be clearer. "I was there when this was written. Please... I can explain it."

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks before unconsciously leaning forward in their seats, eager to hear Mrs Wallace's explanation.

"See, I always visit Swann Beauty on Friday mornings..." She began. "I just said I was there on Saturday the 15th, because the Friday before, I changed my appointment. I had the plane flight in the evening for the dog show and I detest flying you see... I thought it would make me feel better..."

She shrugged, indicating her hair. "Plus I needed a color touch-up too. Thelma's granddaughter dies my hair for me and she was kind enough to write drown the new Saturday appointment as a reminder. We couldn't find any paper so she wrote it on an envelope instead..."

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks, wide-eyed.

"Thelma's granddaughter?" Booth echoed.

"You mean Mrs Swann's granddaughter Ella Jones?" Brennan asked, just as shocked.

Mrs Wallace smiled. "Eleanor yes... I think I've even still got the original envelope she wrote it on."

Myra got up, went over to one of the desks and pulled out a small black book from it.

"This is my appointment book." Mrs Wallace explained. "I remember putting the envelope in here when I got home."

Mrs Wallace opened the book and pulled out a white envelope from it's pages.

"Yes... here you go."

She handed it to Booth.

The words were written the wrong way across the page, obviously done in haste, but they matched the ESDA imprint perfectly:

_**SWANN**_

_**10**_

_**5/15**_

_**Eleanor.**_

Booth was astounded.

"So your saying _**Eleanor Jones**_ wrote this for you?"

Mrs Wallace looked as if she had no idea why the evidence she had just given them was so important and her next words confirmed it.

"Yes. So you see..." Mrs Wallace was smiling. "It's all a misunderstanding... nothing to do with this Sarah girl... I just changed my appointment that's all." She said.

Booth and Brennan looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

Sarah's best friend sent her the threatening message.

"I think we have all we need from you Mrs Wallace." Booth said, rising in his chair.

"You've been very helpful."

Mrs Wallace seemed taken aback at his sudden abruptness.

"Oh... well it's no trouble." She said, good naturedly as she put Lulu down and stood up too.

"I'm sorry we interrupted your evening." Booth told her.

"It's fine... I'm glad I cleared everything up for you..."

"You certainly did." Booth muttered darkly. "You've been very helpful but we'd better be going."

Mrs Wallace smiled. "It's fine... well... if you've finished I'll escort you out."

Recognising it was time to go, Brennan stood up too.

Looking down, she realised she was still holding Mrs Wallace's pen in her hand. She held it out to her. "Here..."

Mrs Wallace shook her head. "Oh it's okay... keep it... we're got loads of them." She smiled.

Brennan shrugged and smiled back. "Oh okay... thank you."

She put it in her pocket.

"This way then." Mrs Wallace said.

Booth and Brennan followed her back into the porch where they retrieved their coats and shoes.

Booth transferred Mrs Wallace's envelope to his jacket pocket, checking twice his newest piece of evidence was secure.

Mrs Wallace was just about open the door when they heard a voice on the other side.

"Stupid weather..." A male voice was cursing. "Hot one minute, dam storms the next-"

The door opened.

A man stepped into the porch. He was in his fifties, shorter than Booth in height, but quite stocky. His eyes were very dark brown and he was also completely bald.

He was wearing expensive -looking, charcoal-colored, corduroy trousers and a pale grey jumper, with a wind breaker over the top.

Unfortunately, all his clothes were completely soaked through and that appeared to be the reason for his annoyance.

"Dam rain... all wet... expensive... everything ruined."

He was still cursing and too distracted to notice them, until Mrs Wallace cleared her throat loudly.

When he saw Booth and Brennan standing there, the man froze half-way through taking off his wind breaker.

"Myra?" The man said, looking startled.

Mrs Wallace quickly reassured her husband.

"Julian Dearest... this is Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan..." She told him.

Julian looked confused. "Is everything all right?" He asked softly.

"Everything's fine." Mrs Wallace said after a pause. "Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan just came to clear up a misunderstanding."

Julian frowned. "What misunderstanding?"

Booth had already spent long enough in the house, he didn't feel like going into it again with Mr Wallace too.

"Doctor Brennan and I were just leaving-"

"About the girl from T.V." Mrs Wallace interrupted to inform her husband. "The one on the News."

She folded her arms across her chest as Mr Wallace hung up his dripping wind breaker on a coat peg.

"Who?" Julian asked.

She ignored his question and frowned at him.

"Your dripping all over my floor... did you get caught in the rain?"

Mr Wallace looked at her, meeting her gaze with a withering look. "I didn't go for a swim..."

He looked at Booth and half smiled. "I picked the wrong time to go for a walk!"

"Agent Booth thought I might know her..." Mrs Wallace told her husband.

"Who?" He asked again as he pulled off his sodden boats.

"The girl from the News!" Mrs Wallace repeated, sounded annoyed.

Julian was too distracted about his wet clothes to be paying much attention.

"Why would you know the girl from the News?" He asked, uninterested.

"Sarah." Mrs Wallace said suddenly. "Sarah Jenkins, that's her name isn't it, Agent Booth?"

Booth nodded, opening his mouth again but Mr Wallace interrupted him.

"Don't know her." Julian shrugged. "What about you Myra?"

He looked at his wife.

"No... I don't." She answered him.

There was a pause.

She looked at her husband. "Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan were just leaving." She told him.

Julian looked up at Booth and smiled. "Well... you're going to get soaked out there."

Booth nodded.

Mrs Wallace looked annoyed again.

"Julian your getting my floor all wet!.." She complained again. "Why didn't you take the umbrella I got you?...what's the point in having an expensive umbrella if you don't use it?..."

"I didn't expect it to start raining..." Mr Wallace admitted. "Please don't fuss."

"We'll leave you now." Booth said, sensing an argument was brewing.

"Don't forget the laptop..." Mrs Wallace reminded him as he opened the door wider.

"Myra!" Julian suddenly exclaimed, shaking his head. "You can't expect the FBI to worry about things like that."

"Why not?" Mrs Wallace said crisply. "I pay my taxes."

Mr Wallace shrugged, not looking all that bothered. "It was my fault anyway. I left the door open... my mistake..."

"Well... I'll look into it for you..." Booth offered.

He looked out at the rain, which was now coming down in sheets.

"We've replaced it now anyway... please don't trouble yourselves." Julian smiled. "You'd better run to your car if you don't want to get wet."

Booth and Brennan nodded, adjusting their coats over their heads as shelter from the weather.

"Goodbye Mrs Wallace." Booth said as Brennan nodded and waved in thanks.

They set off towards the car.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help." Mrs Wallace called out, as they departed.

_On the contrary, Mrs Wallace, on the contrary. _Booth thought darkly, as he hurried to the SUV_._

_Thanks to you, I'd say Ella Jones has some explaining to do..._


	21. Chapter 20 Meeting His Denial

_AUTHOR'S NOTE._

_Hi Guys._

_To those of you that read the last chapter, you managed to get through 22 pages and 7000 words, so if you got to the end, [and I very much hope that you did] then well done to you._

_:)_

_There were lots of red herrings in there, as well as some important stuff too, so I hope you were paying attention._

_Coming up... _

_Ella Jones has some explaining to do, Maggie Jenkins has a secret of her own, and what happens when Steve Jennington rears his unwelcome [but not ugly] head again...?_

_But for now, simply sit back and enjoy these two chapters..._

_Booth and Brennan are thinking... but **not** about each-other of course. _

_I hope this makes you smile._

_Happy reading._

_:)_

_P.S _

_Just to remind you Booth and Brennan only met three days ago in this story._

_The first conversation they had was a heated exchange. _

_[Thankfully their relationship evolves over the next five years!]_

_In the next two chapters I wanted to explore not only **how** Booth and Brennan fell in love, but **why **they fell in love..._

**Chapter 20.**

**Meeting His Denial. **

Seeley Joseph Booth couldn't sleep.

He was tired enough.

It was late enough.

The land of dreams was calling to him.

Booth knew he should be there now, instead of tossing and turning.

His bed [a double four-poster with a soft quilt and fluffy pillows] was _**more**_ than comfortable, so Booth knew that couldn't be the problem.

The rain was coming down in torrents outside his bedroom window and while Booth could hear it tapping against the glass, the sound was faint enough that his lack of sleep could not be blamed on _**this**_ either.

It was humid too... but Booth had air conditioning.

_So what did that leave? _

One more thing.

_The case. _

Booth paused.

_Yes, that was it._

The case.

The murder of Sarah Jenkins.

_That had to be the problem. _

Booth's lack of sleep was simply because he couldn't stop thinking about the case.

So it definitely wasn't because he was thinking about anything or anyone else...

_Like a certain, anti-social anthropologist...?_

_No!_

_Of course not._

It occurred to Booth he was having a conversation with himself, in his own head.

He sighed aloud.

_The lack of sleep must be getting to him. _

On the plus side though, Booth did feel slightly better with the conclusion he had come too, as realistically, he was_** allowed**_ to be thinking about the case.

There was nothing improper, unprofessional or_** just plain wrong **_about that.

So it was a good thing he was _not_ thinking about the anti-social anthropologist.._. right? _

Right.

Although...

_He ought to spend Sunday at Confession..._

Oh God.

He did_** not**_ just think that.

He shook his head roughly.

He was thinking about the case.

Nothing – _**no one**_ - else.

Besides, thinking about the case was understandable, considering the amount of pressure he was under.

Cullen wanted results, the Media wanted results and the citizens of Washington_** definitely**_wanted results so they, at least, could sleep at night.

So far, the results Booth had would disappoint them.

_That,_ he thought testily, _was all__ Brennan's __fault- _

_**No thinking about her, remember? **_

The interruption came at once from an authoritative voice in his own head.

Booth frowned in annoyance and turned over onto his side.

_**Think about the case. **_The voice ordered him.

Booth did as he was told and focused his thoughts back to the murder.

Instantly, an image of Steve Jennington appeared.

Booth scowled.

He was sure Steve Jennington just_** had**_ to be involved in Sarah's murder.

_In some way. _

_Somehow._

_No matter what the evidence said. _

Steve Jennington was definitely responsible for Sarah's death.

_Full stop._

Booth just knew it.

He paused.

Okay, so he knew he was in danger of sounding obsessed with the man... but it wasn't as if the guy did _**himself**_ any favours either.

He certainly wasn't any kind of poster for his own innocence.

Steve Jennington was rotten to the core, arrogant enough to think his money meant he was better than everybody else and confident enough to think he could get away with murder.

Booth believed Steve was guilty.

_End of._

It had nothing to do with the complaint Steve had made against him, despite what Brennan thought.

_Besides, who was she to question -_

**_Hey! Don't think about __her__, remember?_**

The authoritative voice rebuked Booth for the second time.

Frowning, Booth rolled over again to face the window and shook his head to rid it of Brennan's image.

_**Who cares what she thinks right?... You only care about the case.** _He reminded himself, firmly.

So okay, where was he?

_Oh yeah – Steve. _

Well, he wasn't obsessed with him and he wasn't putting too much emphasis on the man either.

Steve came high on Booth's suspect list simply because Booth knew he had both motive and means to commit the crime.

_That's all. _

Booth knew he didn't have much evidence on the man but he was confident he would find it.

It was only a matter of time.

Booth would be proved right.

_He was bound to be. _

Booth paused again.

Okay, so he knew he was in danger of sounding big-headed now, but it wasn't as if he couldn't admit he'd been wrong about _**some**_ things.

So it turned out Steve Jennington wasn't having an affair with Myra Wallace, Booth could admit he'd been wrong about that theory.

_Although... _

In his defence, it was_** just**_ a theory, and anyway, it wasn't as if the trip to question her had been a total waste.

On the contrary, they were now in possession of the original ESDA message all thanks to Mrs Wallace and thanks to _**that **_it now looked as though Ella Jones sent Sarah Jenkins a letter...

A threatening letter...

_**STAY AWAY OR YOU WILL BE SORRY. **_

_Come to think of it_, Booth realised suddenly, _what if__ Ella Jones__ was the one having an affair with Steve?_

Suddenly feeling more alert, Booth's thoughts continued along this line.

_What if Ella had been jealous of Steve's relationship with Sarah so she sent the threatening message warning her best friend off...? But Sarah wouldn't listen, so Ella lured her to Welding's Park for a showdown and Steve was waiting... _

Booth smiled suddenly.

_Yes, that could fit._

It was definitely worth checking out that theory.

_He'd have to tell -_

Booth stopped, frowning, as he realised something.

_Bones would probably just scoff at that theory too..._

**_Cut it out! _ **

The authoritative voice inside Booth's head spoke up abruptly, no-nonsense and very annoyed.

_**Both 'B' words are off limits, which means no thinking about either one!**_

Booth rolled over onto his back, his eyes flashing as he huffed his annoyance.

_Fine. _

Now, what was he saying?

_The case. _

He was thinking about the case.

_Right, his theory. _

Well, as for _**that**_, he would have to ask Ella Jones about it tomorrow morning when he interviewed her.

Booth intended to be up and about, bright and early,_** with or without sleep,**_ as he was very interested to hear just _**how **_exactly she would explain herself.

Booth knew all he had to do was get a sample of Ella's hand-writing and she would be forced to explain why it matched the threatening message Sarah Jenkins had received...

_Unless it didn't... _

But Booth simply couldn't entertain that thought.

_It would match._

And when it did, Ella Jones would have no choice but to start talking and maybe, just maybe, they would finally get somewhere...

Just as soon as he'd spoken to her.

Booth frowned as he recalled leaving Mrs Wallace's mansion a few hours ago.

He had planned to go straight over to Ella's house to confront her then, but unfortunately, a few things had stopped him.

The rain quickly turned into a storm.

The roads were dangerous, causing an accident in the centre of town that gridlocked traffic.

_And then there was the small matter of **someone **yawning into his ear from the passenger seat..._

Booth scowled at the memory.

_Why should he care if Brennan was tired?_

He didn't feel the need to protect her or anything.

_So what if she had stayed up all through the previous night to rebuild Sarah's shattered rib?_

That was her choice.

He certainly didn't owe her anything.

_He should have just drove over to Ella's house on his own but Brennan had virtually begged him-_

_**You keep doing it! **_

The authoritative voice was back again and it sounded mad.

_**Just stop it! For the last time you are not thinking about that pain-in-the-neck woman!**_

Booth was annoyed with himself now, as well as she-who-shall-not-be-named.

Worse, he had nowhere to channel that annoyance since he'd already decided he _**wasn't **_thinking about her...

Booth threw himself onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow.

When he looked up again, his eyes fell upon the clock on his dresser.

It was now 2am... and he still wasn't asleep.

Frustrated and tired, Booth sighed aloud.

_Well, at least__** he**__ could __survive without sleep,_ he mused, _unlike __**some**__ people._

Booth stopped suddenly as a ghost of a smile floated across his face.

_Hmm..._

_In fact, _Booth thought, feeling rather daring, _men were better at surviving without sleep than women._

He'd even go so far as...

_Men were better at most things._

Booth was grinning now.

He knew _**some**_ people would want to argue with that... but _**they**_ weren't here to challenge him.

Booth grin widened.

_Besides, **those** people would be just plain wrong._

Why?

_Women were just too stubborn to admit the truth. _

_In fact, they were just too stubborn. _

_About everything. _

_Yeah, they never did as they were told either, even when it was for their own good._

_They'd rather argue back. _

_What was it about **some **women always wanting their own way? _

_That was just annoying. _

_And speaking of __**that,**_ _why did __**some **__women have to give their opinion on everything? _

_Even when the men didn't ask for it._

_**Some** women just blurted out whatever they wanted. _

_They had no social skills at all. _

_It was like they had no idea they were saying the wrong thing..._

Booth paused.

_Well... okay so maybe he knew there were some men who would find that... well... kind-of cute... but **him?** _

_No way. _

_He wasn't one them_.

_Absolutely not. _

_Then there were the women who were such know-it-all's, they sounded like they'd swallowed a textbook. _

_Gimme a break._

_They needed to learn to chill out but they couldn't because they were so set in their ways they didn't like change... but they actually made out** he** was the one who had a problem with it... _

He frowned, realising he had started to go off topic.

_Er... _

_Where was he again? _

_Oh yeah.._

_Well it was just a good thing that the men knew what they were doing. _

_They knew how to take charge._

_Though some women liked to** think** they did._

_It was ironic how **some** women certainly knew how to give orders... they just didn't know how to take them. _

_Then, just because they didn't like not having their own way, **some** women knew exactly how to press your buttons and wind you up. _

_They actually seemed to enjoy arguing._

Booth paused.

_He could see why some men might like that too. _

_A woman who was passionate enough to argue if she thought she was in the right. _

_He didn't though._

_No way._

_Just gave him a headache. _

_It was always made worse when the woman in question was so intelligent **he** started to think maybe he was the one in the wrong, after all..._

Booth frowned.

_**Some** women knew exactly what to do if they were losing an argument too._

_They tried to distract you._

_First, they let their hair down out of it's ponytail._

_**That **made you forget what you were saying because it's all kind-of shiny and soft-looking and you start thinking it would be quite nice to reach out and touch it and-_

_Er..._

_Where was he again?_

_Oh yeah... well... he could control himself of course._

_So that didn't work. _

_But **some **women had another way of making sure they got their own way._

_They looked at you all wide-eyed and doe-like. _

_This never worked either,_ Booth mused.

_No matter how unusual the woman's eyes happened to be._

_Or how deep they were._

_Or how really, really beautiful..._

_Er..._

_What was he saying again?_

Booth realised he'd veered off topic for the second time.

_Well... of course, there are beautiful women. _

_That was one of their better qualities._

_If a woman was physically attractive it was a turn-on for men._

_He liked something more though. _

_He wasn't sure what it was but-_

_Most women paraded their looks. _

_It was rare to find a woman who chose to do the opposite... parade her intelligence._

_Especially if it was clear the woman in question had both... _

_That said a lot about the woman..._

_It was kind of... interesting._

Booth had always been a bit of a 'leg man' himself.

_He usually lusted after women with long legs but... well...._

_He had to admit... _

_Intelligence was kind of sexy... _

_Besides, it helped Bones just happened to have the longest legs he'd ever -_

_**Arrrrrgh!**_


	22. Chapter 21 Meeting Her Denial

_Continued..._

_**Chapter 21. **_

**Meeting Her Denial. **

Temperance Brennan was lying in bed and staring at her ceiling... wide awake.

She thought that was somewhat ironic, considering the amount of rest she'd had these past two days.

Her tired body was ready for sleep.

Unfortunately, her active mind had other ideas.

Brennan had been in bed since ten.

It was now two hours later and she was still not asleep.

What's more, she had no idea why.

There were many words that could be used to describe Temperance Brennan.

A _**quitter**_ was not one of them.

So she stubbornly remained in bed, refusing to give up.

Only now, her patience was wearing thin and she was starting to get annoyed...

No...

_**More**_ annoyed.

_Come to think of it..._

She'd been feeling this way even _**before**_ she'd got into bed.

Why?

Once again, Brennan had no idea.

_Hmm.... _

This thought gave her an idea though.

Brennan kept a state-of-the-art stereo on the chest-of-drawers beside her bed. She reached over and pressed down the 'play' button on the machine.

What Brennan needed was a way to relax.

Listening to whale music had proved itself to be therapeutic in the past.

Brennan settled back against the sheets and closed her eyes.

_**Just listen. **_She told herself as the music began...

A lone whale started off it's song with a series of echoing 'clicks.'

Brennan took a deep breathe through her nose and exhaled, trying to shut out the noise of the rain from outside and focus on the whale.

It's song was haunting and strangely beautiful...

Scientifically Brennan knew the 'music' was simply repetitious sounds the whale made, at varying frequencies.

Yet...

As the whale continued... as a melody took shape... it almost felt as though the whale was... telling a story...

It sang to Brennan of loneliness...

Of needing...

Of searching for something...

A violin began to play, it's sweet notes harmonizing with the whales high pitched melody...

The whale's song became a rich and flowing rhythm, soaring higher and higher until-

A second whale joined the first.

Brennan smiled.

The music from the violin suddenly dimmed and the two whales sang a haunting duet, just the two of them.

They sang to each other... _for_ each other...

One high-pitched song joining and caressing the other's slightly lower pitch...

Brennan became lost in the music as she listened to one whale's tune nurturing the other's.

She marvelled at the way they complemented each other, supporting each other, on the same side, working together as a team, connected in the most amazing way...

The music became powerful... dramatic...

Then suddenly it seemed to change.

Brennan frowned.

It didn't sound as if the two whales were working together anymore...

Suddenly it sounded as if the two whales were... _ arguing?_

Brennan could hardly believe her own ears.

One whale seemed to be challenging the other... and the other was stubbornly refusing to give in... challenging it's mate right back...

Were they actually _bickering?!_

Suddenly the music didn't seem so relaxing anymore.

Suddenly Brennan just felt very, very uncomfortable.

She sat up and jabbed at the 'stop' button on her stereo.

The silence that followed was very loud.

_So... that was a bad idea then. _

Brennan sighed.

She was still not asleep and her active mind still needed a distraction...

Brennan's gaze fell on the stereo again and she had another thought.

Forget whales.

_What about real music?_

Brennan smiled, suddenly quite pleased with herself.

_Yes... that could work. _

She turned back to the stereo and pressed the button marked 'radio.'

A burst of static filled the room and Brennan turned the dial, trying to find a good song.

A man's voice came through on one frequency, reading the weather report.

That was just ironic, considering you only had to look outside right now to know it certainly wasn't sunny.

Brennan turned the dial again.

A pulsing beat filled the room.

Brennan liked music.

She was too much of a workaholic to be up-to-date on the latest celebrity singers, but the female voice on the radio had a distinctive, light and girlie tone that was pleasing to the ear...

_La la la _

_La la la la la_

_La la la _

_La la la la la_

Brennan had never heard the song before but for such simple words, they were very catchy.

She smiled...

Too soon as it turned out.

The female voice started to sing the first chorus of the song and Brennan's smile faded with each lyric.

_I just can't get you outta my head._

_Boy your loving is all I think about._

_I just can't get you outta my head._

_Boy it's more than I dare to think about._

_I just can't get you outta my head-_

Brennan jabbed at the 'stop' button almost viciously.

The silence that followed rang in her ears.

Brennan scowled. _**Stupid song. **_

She felt even more annoyed now, if that were possible and still wide awake.

A shrill scream cut through the silence.

Brennan jumped a mile before realising – the telephone beside her bed was ringing.

Brennan hesitated, wondering if she should answer, then decided she might as well get this over with.

Sighing, she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sweetie, it's me."

Brennan visibly relaxed at the sound of her best friend's voice.

"Hi Angela."

"You sound sleepy. Did I wake you?" Angela asked, sounding apologetic.

Brennan smiled faintly at the irony of her question.

"No Ange. I've been tossing and turning for ages... can't sleep. Your lucky I picked up the phone though, I thought you might be Pete."

"He's still calling you?" Angela asked, referring to Brennan's recent ex-boyfriend, the concern evident in her voice.

Brennan shrugged, not that Angela could see her.

"Only a few times a week now."

"He's not taking the hint, is he?" Angela wrinkled her nose, frowning at Brennan's apparent lack of concern.

Indeed Brennan simply shrugged again.

"He'll get the message sooner or later."

Angela frowned.

"Hun, he's probably a bit confused after he moved out. It's not as if you gave him a good reason-"

Brennan did not want to have this conversation again.

"Ange I told you." She interrupted. "I just got bored."

"After only a week?" Angela raised an eyebrow.

Brennan could practically see her best friend's face right now.

She sighed.

"I shouldn't have let him move in."

Angela snorted.

"Agreed. So why did you?"

There was silence.

"Sweetie?" Angela prompted, sensing Brennan's discomfort.

More silence. Then...

"I don't know."

Brennan cleared her throat and when she spoke again her voice was firm.

"I don't want to talk about it Ange. Pete and I are over. Case closed."

Then she changed the subject.

"Anyway why are you calling? I thought you had a date tonight?"

Angela sighed.

"Jake cancelled on me." She explained. "He said the storm's too bad."

Brennan smiled faintly at her friend's disappointed tone.

"That's understandable really. What did you expect?"

Angela laughed lightly.

"As stupid as it may sound I had this vision of him as a knight in shining armour – braving the wind and the rain to rescue his Princess Angela and take her somewhere magical..." She shrugged and added. "Or at least to The Ocean Bar for sushi."

Brennan smiled.

"Well it _**is**_ a bad storm Ange."

There was a pause.

"You know..." Angela's voice sounded innocent enough but Brennan could tell she was grinning. "I bet _**Booth **_would have braved the wind and the rain... _don't you think so, Princess Brennan_?"

Brennan knew Angela was trying to tease her.

"Booth wouldn't brave the storm to go and interview Ella Jones." She declared dryly, refusing to play ball. "If he didn't brave it for that, I doubt he'd brave it for anyone else."

But Angela wouldn't let it drop.

"I thought he _wanted_ to interview Ella but _**you **_were tired so -"

"That's not what happened!" The retort came out more forceful than Brennan had intended. "I mean... I was perfectly fit. There was nothing stopping us-"

"Apart from the storm." Angela interjected helpfully.

"Yes well..." Brennan paused. "It wasn't ideal weather but that had nothing to do with me. Booth overreacted. I simply yawned a few times and suddenly he's whisking me home at top speed-"

"Booth's a gentlemen." Angela interrupted with a smile.

"Booth's a pain-in-the-neck." Brennan retorted, without thinking.

Angela burst out laughing.

"I think... he'd say... the same thing... about you." She got out, between chuckles. "I don't think either of you means it though."

Brennan's reply was firm. "Wanna bet?"

Angela laughed.

She knew that, sometimes, the only way to get through to Brennan was to be as blunt as she was.

"Why does it sound to me like your feeling a little sore?" Angela asked, eyes twinkling. "You know, because other men always fall at your feet."

Brennan blinked.

"Are you suggesting I make men clumsy?" She asked, confused. "Or just plain ill?"

Angela smiled, despite herself.

"Not literally Sweetie. I mean, just think about it okay? Every man you have ever met, took one look at you and started drooling. Then they find out your Doctor Temperance Brennan, this amazing, world renowned anthropologist. You get such respect because of that. So now they're in awe of you, first because of your looks, then because of your brains. So what do they do? They tell you exactly what you want to hear and you get exactly what you want from them... and it's _**always**_ been that way..."

She paused, before adding with a flourish. _"But with Booth...?"_

She let the sentence hang in the air.

After a while, Brennan spoke.

"Are you suggesting I find Booth so infuriating because he doesn't let me have my own way?"

Angela smiled.

"_You_ said it."

"That's very childish." Brennan said at once.

"You said-"

"It. Yes I know." Brennan finished for her and frowned.

"But I'm not childish with other men, am I?"

"That's exactly my point Sweetie." Angela tried to explain. "Normally you have men wrapped around your little finger but with Booth it's not like that. Booth has all the control. _Booth decides_ if you come with him to interview a suspect._ Booth decides_ how the investigation is run. _Booth_ questions your decisions. In short, Booth doesn't let you have your own way."

Angela chuckled as she went on.

"That part annoys the hell out of you, but no one's ever treated you like that before and it excites you too. So now Booth's under_ your _skin. He's in_ your_ head."

"But how do I get him out?!" Brennan cried without thinking. She quickly added. "I mean, why can't he just be like every other guy and-?"

"I don't think Booth_** is**_ like every other guy." Angela interrupted kindly. "He's real Bren. What you see is what you get."

Brennan paused, thinking.

"But all I get is annoyed." She said at last. "He just annoys me-"

"Oh Sweetie," Angela's voice was gentle. "Booth doesn't annoy you. What annoys you is how Booth makes you _feel._"

Brennan was silent again.

"How does he make me feel?" She asked quietly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Angela smiled.

"Like you just leapt without looking."

Brennan frowned.

"You know I hate psychology, Ange."

"I know Hun, 'it's a soft science' blah blah blah... but I'm only trying to help. You know what else? I bet that's why you can't sleep. Booth's scared you and interested you at the same time."

"Men don't scare me." Brennan said matter-of-factly.

Angela rolled her eyes.

"I don't mean in a... defending-yourself-against-Norman-Bates kind of way_._" She declared dryly.

Brennan frowned.

"I don't know what that means." She said.

Angela ignored her.

"Come on Bren, admit it. You're interested in Booth."

"Angela-"

"Don't Angela me." Angela interrupted, her tone teasing."You can't stop thinking about him can you? Admit it. You'll feel better."

"Angela-"

"He's in your dreams, isn't he?"

Brennan's eyes flashed.

"Angela!-"

"He is! You think Seeley Booth is hot-"

"Seeley Booth is _not_ hot." Brennan declared crossly, mainly to get her to shut up.

There was a pause, but it was very brief.

"_Liar." _

Angela was grinning.

"You're a terrible liar."

"If you think Booth is so wonderful, why don't _**you **_date him?" Brennan said testily.

Angela smiled. "I could..."

Brennan opened her mouth - realised she had nothing to say - and closed it again abruptly.

"But..." Angela continued. "I'd be standing in the way of something pretty special."

Her voice became gentle.

"You know what Tempe?"

She rarely called Brennan that.

"All your life people have defined you by the fact your super beautiful and super smart. In the space of three days Booth saw past _**both**_ of those things and spoke to you in the same way I do. He doesn't treat you like you're on a pedestal. To him your simply _**Bones.**_"

Angela grinned broadly.

"Did I mention he's also super hot...?" She trailed off.

Brennan sighed, rolling her eyes. "You forgot super stubborn too."

Angela remembered a conversation she'd had with Booth in an elevator not so long ago and laughed.

"I know somebody_** else**_ like that."

"I'm not stubborn!" Brennan retorted, frowning. "He's the one who's always being so... so... so...."

"Difficult?" Angela supplied, struggling to keep from bursting into laughter as Brennan carried on oblivious.

"Yes exactly! He's really difficult to work with-"

"Well then I suggest _**you**_ make things easier by being_** nice**_." Angela suggested.

"I am-"

"Amazing, Bren." Angela interrupted, her voice full of affection. "Just do me a favour and give Booth a chance to see it okay? You never know," She added with a smile. "You may even become friends."

"Seeley Booth will never be my friend." Brennan said at once. "We're too different."

"They say opposites attract and you _**do **_know what that means."

Angela was grinning.

Brennan sighed.

"I'm putting the phone down now Ange." She declared dryly.

Angela laughed. "I thought you couldn't sleep?"

Brennan rolled her eyes with a shrug. "I'll count... something."

Angela laughed again.

"I think you mean '_sheep'_ but I can take a hint. The subject is closed... for now. I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

"Yes... see you at work. Goodnight Angela."

"Goodnight."

Angela smiled cheekily, unable to resist.

"Sweet dreams."

Brennan put the phone down on her.

Sighing, she turned to the alarm clock beside her bed.

It was now 2am.

Brennan knew she had to try to sleep.

First thing in the morning, Booth would be coming to pick her up so they could go and interview Ella Jones.

_I bet Booth__ had no trouble getting to sleep. _

Brennan frowned at the thought.

_He __was probably sleeping like a baby right now._

**Don't think about him.**

The authoritative voice had come from her own head and it was firm.

Brennan paused... then nodded.

_Yes, she would definitely **not** think about Seeley Booth anymore tonight. _

_It's not as if anything Angela had said was actually true._

She wasn't thinking about Booth.

_So there was no reason why she couldn't **not** think about him... right?_

Brennan settled back against the covers.

After the whale song disaster and the radio fiasco, she decided her last hope was mediation.

It might relax her enough so she could fall asleep.

Brennan took a deep cleansing breathe through her nose and exhaled.

Then again.

She tried to regulate her breathing by concentrating on the simple process of in... and out.

_Breathe in... breathe out._

_Breathe in... breathe out._

_Breathe in... breathe out. _

Every time she took big, deep breathes, trying to use all of her lung space, then releasing in a long, slow _whoosh._

Brennan could feel herself starting to relax.

So she closed her eyes.

All she had to do was clear her mind.

Not think about anything.

Or anyone_._

Least of all -

_Seeley Booth's face appeared in her head._

Temperance Brennan was not a quitter.

She was a winner.

And very, very smart too.

Smart enough to know that, sometimes, winning meant knowing when to say:

_**I give up.**_

Brennan pulled back the covers and padded into her living room in search of her laptop.

She may as well do some writing, since she'd be getting no sleep tonight.

It had nothing to do with Booth though.

Brennan was certain.

Her lack of sleep was nothing to with Booth.

It couldn't be, because she wasn't remotely interested in him.

He was just the most annoying man she had ever met.

As she sat down she recalled something from her conversation with Angela:

_Give Booth a chance. You may even become friends._

_**Friends?**_ Brennan thought.

That was laughable.

_**We don't even** **like** **each other.**_


End file.
